Pulp Fanfiction
by bluekrishna
Summary: Written for a contest. Asked to do a movie/ME crossover fic and I picked PULP FIIIIIIIICTION! I had to swoop in to snap it up quickly. This was the good kind of swooping, not the bad. This is a very AU ME-verse and will be almost scene exact to the movie with changes to make it flow with the characters we all know and love. Will diverge more from the movie script as time goeson
1. Chapter 1

This story is AU. A few things that didn't happen and a couple that did:

Garrus was never recruited in ME1.

Saren is thought to have saved the Citadel in what everyone believes was an act of noble sacrifice.

Shepard is a traitor, the Normandy is missing, and both have since faded into obscurity.

Thane Krios has become the biggest and most successful criminal kingpin outside of the Terminus systems.

But the Reapers are coming.

Let us begin, the stage is set, the curtain lifts...

* * *

_In the beginning..._

"No, what I'm saying is, I think we need to branch out."

"Branch out how?" Said the salarian across from her, his large eyes flickering in amusement as he sipped his steaming beverage. A salarian drinking coffee, and to all appearances, enjoying it immensely, she hid her own smile of amusement. His guarded tone was belied by the eager twitch at the corners of his mouth.

Kasumi felt a touch of pride rise in her chest at the thought of how she'd taken this man, formerly an agent of the law and bent him to her will, not that she was completely unaffected by his earnestness, or how he gave so generously when they made love. She played with her bottom lip as she replied, "Big heists are fun and all, but all the planning, all the meticulous surveying and finding the right fences for the goods after we lift them, it can get tiring..."

She let her words drift off as she studied Bau. She loved to watch him think, especially when she was leading him to a thought, a trail of breadcrumbs in the forest of sin. Honestly, if she was being strictly_ honest_ with herself, all this clever manipulation sometimes left her feeling guilty, but she dismissed it. It's not like she was ruining the man, just giving him some...dimension.

Who would have thought that she'd have found a worthy partner in the very man who'd been chasing her down for years? A man who, in many ways, outshined poor, dead Keiji. Bau measured his words carefully as he tilted his head playfully to the side, "A little spontaneity, then?"

"Oh, yes please." She simpered at him, enjoying how the skin around his eyes flushed at her frankly bold lick across her lips.

His hands twitched as he set his mug down and she sensed all that boundless energy he kept so tightly in reserve come undone at the edges. She loved his enthusiasm most of all. Once committed, it was very hard to stop former Spectre Jondum Bau. He looked around with an air of disinterest, but she knew that in those few moments, he'd cased the diner they were eating breakfast in, much as she had when she'd first walked in. It wasn't quite the habit for him yet as it was for her. He said, with a quirked brow, "Here?"

"Maybe." Her tone was flippant and she shrugged to hide the growing excitement that flooded her.

"Wouldn't be much of a take..." He would be the one to point that out.

"The take isn't the point, the '_taking_' is." She purposefully loaded that word with double and triple meanings and nearly laughed when his control slipped further and he gave her a look that was as close to a leer as he'd ever been capable of doing. She leaned across the table toward him, drinking in the sight of what was surely desire coiling and uncoiling deep in those huge pupils. He was so odd for a salarian, though it pleased her to no end to think that it was she who could inspire lust in the lustless. She pocketed that small vanity to examine later, perhaps when they were alone.

She crooked a finger to beckon him closer, which he did and she put her mouth close to his aural canal and said in a breathy moan, "Thrill me, honey bunny."

He trembled and she felt a wash of triumph. Now he was licking his own lips and clearing his throat, "How far?"

"Just short of lethal. Show me that killer salarian that hunted a thief so tenaciously. He didn't know how hot that made me, how I ached for him to catch me and punish me." She gave him a rather naughty little bite on the jawline and giggled to hear him gasp. Oh, but she loved larceny, and his virtue was something she'd nicked gleefully and kept locked deep in her heart. She couldn't care less what the patrons of this dismal greasy spoon of a restaurant had lining their pockets. Bau was a goldmine that kept giving and she loved to watch him, to know that he was a changed man because of her.

A subtle movement under the table told her that he'd drawn his weapon and she held her breath as he said, his voice now cold, chilling her with its deadly undertones, "Plan?"

She ran a finger under his collar, across that slick salarian skin that felt so cool and smooth under her hand, "You're on crowd control. I'll handle the staff."

His eyes danced with manic anticipation as he dove in for a heated kiss, which she returned eagerly, tongues dancing in and out of each other's mouth, winding, twisting. She felt heat pool in places that were sure to distract her in the next tense minutes and made to pull away when a sharp nip on her lips made her gasp in delight. Oh, he could be so...wicked.

"I love you, pumpkin." He said, all seriousness.

Her heart swelled at the words, though her mind admonished him with, _Of course you love me. Have I not spent the better part of a year making it so?_ None of this made it past her lips, only an echo that she made sure to reinforce with steady gaze, so he could see how sincere it was. And it was sincere, to her chagrin, "I love you, too, honey bunny."

She burst into motion, pulling out a pistol she'd hidden in her clothing and leaping atop the table that held the remnants of their meal. She shouted, "Everyone be cool, this is a robbery!"

Bau leapt to his feet, growling out in ringing tones laden with threat, leaving no doubt in any mind that heard it that he was fully capable and on the very precipice of carrying out said threat, "Any of you fucking pyjaks _move,_ and I'll execute every motherfucking last one of you!"

Kasumi shivered with arousal and thought, _Let the games begin._

* * *

_Earlier that day..._

"Okay, so tell me again about the sandbars." Same gravely voice, same deadly calm under that scarred countenance that was creased with years of bitterness and battle. Massani really hadn't changed at all.

Garrus found an odd comfort in that as he replied, "Okay, what do you want to know?"

"Sand is legal there, right?"

"Yeah, it's legal but it ain't a hundred percent legal." He slumped further down into the aircar's seat so his fringe wouldn't keep bumping the ceiling every time Zaeed took a hard turn, or dropped into the lower lanes suddenly as he was wont to do, "I mean, you can't just walk into a restaurant and cut a line and snort it. They want you to do your business at home or in certain designated places."

"And those are sandbars." A statement that curled upwards slightly at the end, not quite a question, but Garrus decided to treat it as one.

"It breaks down like this." He started ticking off points on his talons, "Yes, it's legal to buy it. It's legal to own it. If you're the proprietor of a sandbar, it's legal to sell it. It's _il_legal to carry it, but that doesn't matter because get a load of this."

Zaeed watched him out of the corner of his eye, rolling and yawing easily with the busy traffic in this extremely run down part of the wards. The Citadel was getting to be a really dirty place, probably why they'd recalled Garrus from abroad to do some house cleaning. The old merc waved at him to continue.

"If you get stopped by the cops on Thessia, it's illegal for them to search you." He made a satisfied hum in his throat and stretched his legs out, wishing they'd put more leg room in these vehicles, "That's a right that cops on Thessia _don't _have."

Zaeed chuffed a hoarse laugh and took a drag off his smoke, spitting out the window, "I feel a vacation coming on. Think those blue bitches'd give the time of day to an old sod like me?"

"Flash enough cash and you can probably snort a line right off their taut little bellies." Garrus grinned at the thought. The merc's appetites had become nearly as legendary as his reputation for being the last man standing. As for himself, he was a long time user but the sand had no pull any more. He didn't miss the way the long binges seemed to make it feel as though his eyeballs were charged electrically, and spinning non too gently in their sockets. Garrus had moved on to...better distractions. He mused quietly as he said, "You know what the funniest thing about visiting alien homeworlds is?"

"What?" Zaeed's accent turned it into 'wot' and Garrus suppressed a grin.

He went on to say,"It's the little differences. They've got the same shit over there that we've got here, but over there, it's just a little different."

Massani rumbled, "Example."

Garrus sighed, "Alright..you can walk into a titty bar on Thessia and see women of all races, and a few men too. The asari are a minority in those joints, unlike everywhere else I've been. There was even a krogan stripper there."

"Don't tell me you bought a lapdance from a krogan." Zaeed laughed, a bark of a laugh that shot around the cab of the aircar concussively.

"What can I say, I felt sorry for the guy." Garrus was inordinately pleased to put that shock there on that human face. Humans had such odd...conventions. "Even took him out for a bite to eat after. Guy was shit at his job, and ate like a starving man. Turns out he used to be a battlemaster, so I thought I'd see if Krios had a place for him."

"Compassionate. Didn't know you had a soft spot for krogan males."

Garrus ignored what he was insinuating and continued, "And that's another thing. Thessia even has pizza joints. You know that asari vat grown protein, the one that's compatible across chiralities? Real popular?"

"Mmhmm, my mate's call it asari bacon." Massani tossed his cigarette away, disregarding the fact that it could fall on someone and burn them or catch a park on fire or any other number of things.

Garrus shut down that part of his brain that cared forcefully, thinking how his conscience only served to get him into trouble but never back out of it, "They put it on everything. You know what they call asari bacon on Thessia?"

"They don't call it asari bacon?"

"They're asari, man, that'd be a little redundant."

"So what do they call it?"

Garrus schooled his expression to completely neutral, thinking, _Just like Joker said, timing is everything, _and waited til he had Zaeed's undivided attention before saying, "Bacon."

The merc shot him an incredulous look before grinning in a way that made his scars writhe on his face like serpents, "Bacon? Ha, funny."

They pulled into the parking garage in the base of one of the slummier apartment buildings and Massani said as they both got out, "Open the boot, will you, sweetheart? Get my gear out while I'm off for a piss and I'll see if I can't get a krogan to sit on your lap later."

"Oh yeah, you're a real crack up, bet you got all those scars on your face because you were so fucking funny."

"Yeah, an' you got yours because rockets ain't got no ears to talk off."

Garrus made a rude gesture toward the human's retreating back. He unpacked their weapons as Zaeed wandered off to take a leak. A pistol, he sighed, not his weapon of choice but it would do. They were here after all to send a message. He turned his head as the merc reappeared at his elbow, picking up his own gun. Garrus asked, "How many up there?"

"Three or four."

"That's counting our guy?" Informants were always useful, but never trustworthy. He hadn't met one yet that wouldn't flip flop from side to side in a fight, or wait it out to see who came out on top.

Less comforting was Zaeed's response, "Not sure."

"So that means there could be up to five guys up there." Not the worst odds, but disconcerting because Garrus was in the habit of leaving nothing to chance.

The merc grunted and straightened his coat, a long affair that hid the micromesh armor he was clad in. Garrus was wearing much the same, it was slick and easy to hide under clothes and was marginally more effective than nothing at all. Massani said, "Should have brought Jessie."

Small talk filled the space between the two killers as they walked into the apartment building and the topic turned, as conversations do, to their enigmatic employer and his new wife. Garrus said, letting his eyes roam for possible hostile targets, "What's her name?"

"Jane."

Garrus echoed it thoughtfully, followed by, "How did Thane and her meet?"

"I don't know. However people meet people." Massani shot him a sideways look, "She used to be a soldier. Had her own ship."

"Oh, really? Was she in any engagements I might have heard about?"

"Naw, I think her biggest deal was some sortie on Feros or was it, Virmire? I forget. Alliance ex-military."

"Oh, she's human." He was intrigued. How did their drell boss meet and marry an Alliance ex-officer?

"She might've been on the extranet a few years back." Zaeed waved a hand dismissively.

"I don't do the extranet." Not strictly true, but Garrus hated the convoluted way the thing worked. He'd search for one thing and get hundreds of results, whittling them down to usable data was worse than calibrating a heavy weapon. And just as maddening.

Massani paused and turned at the inner doors to the lobby, giving him a sardonic glare, "Okay, but you are aware that there is an invention called the extranet and on this invention they sometimes have current events of note that some people call the 'news', correct?"

Rolling his eyes, Garrus responded with a sarcastic, "No, Zaeed, I've had my head buried in the dirt for the last thousand years or so."

"Or you were too busy burying your tongue in some blue pussy, more likely."

"That's just crude. And off topic." He followed the merc into the building, where he could already see the double doors of an elevator that heralded the inevitable and frustratingly long ass wait inside a tiny box that all lifts on the Citadel seemed to enjoy torturing its residents with.

"I'm a crude fellow. Anyway, she made some headlines a few years back. Rising star, Spectre candidate, blah blah blah." Something in Zaeed's tone begged clarification.

"What happened?"

"Nothing came of it." Interesting...If Garrus didn't know any better, he'd think Massani was being deliberately evasive. Only to be thrown by Zaeed's next words, which were soft but unyielding, "All stars burn out or fall. There ain't no heroes, not really."

They approached the elevator. The merc at his side said, "You remember Conrad Verner? 'Bout my height, bit youngish, 'specially in the mental department?"

It did conjure an image in the back of his mind. Human, pale, pathetic in the way a kicked pet varren stays loyal, "Yeah, maybe. Useless."

"Everyone's got a use, Vakarian. And this one's was to set an example."

"What about him?" He watched the counter above the elevator slowly count down to zero, or in this case, lobby.

"Thane fucked him up good." Zaeed hacked and coughed a large wad of phlegm onto the dusty, threadbare carpet at their feet, "Word around the campfire is it was on account of Thane Krios' wife."

Finally, the doors opened and the two men stepped in. Garrus let Massani pick the floor, he was mostly here as backup anyway and was content to let Zaeed lead. He let silence reign for a bit but his curiosity got the better of him, "So what'd he do? Fuck her?"

"I said he was fucked up, not dead."

"Then what did he do?"

Zaeed flashed him a smirk, "Gave her a foot massage."

Quizzically, Garrus stared at the paneling in front of him, its mirrored surface pocked and stained, distorting his image into a wavy blur, "A foot massage? That's it?"

Zaeed rumbled in agreement, "Thane had some heavies take the idiot to the top of the Presidium and dropped him off the edge into the lakes up there. That moron fell over a quarter mile. I hear he hit that shit flat as a pancake and sank like a stone. C-Sec was there but they know better than to interfere and they fished him out after Thane's boys left. Resuscitated him, but since then, he's developed a bit of a speech impediment."

Garrus frowned then snorted, "That's a damn shame."

With a soft ding, the doors opened once again, letting them out onto the third floor, Garrus was glad to note. Glad that it hadn't been at the damn top of this tower. He really had better things to do than spend hours in elevators. He followed Zaeed into a long hallway, narrow but tall enough to accommodate his height. He continued the conversation, "Still, I have to say, you play with grenades, you're liable to lose a hand, or foot...or bodypart of your choice."

"What do you mean?" Zaeed was looking at room numbers as they passed.

"You don't give Thane Krios' new bride a foot massage." Turians might have a looser definition of what could fill the capacity of 'significant other' than some races, but they had very clear definitions of 'mine' and 'not mine'.

"You don't think he overreacted?"

"Conrad probably didn't expect Thane to react as he did, but he had to expect a reaction."

Zaeed made a negative noise in his throat, "It was a foot massage. A foot massage is nothing."

"It's laying your hands in a familiar way on something that's not yours. I mean, is it as bad as sticking his cock in her azure? No." Garrus could already read a hearty disagreement coming his way in a few seconds and tried to head it off with a human idiom, "But it's the same, what do you call it, ballpark."

"Whoa, stop right there. Buggery and foot massages ain't nothing like one another." The pair paused in the hallway and faced each other.

He rejoinded, "It's not. It's in the same ballpark."

"Ain't no bloody ballpark neither. Now, look, maybe your method of foot massage differs from mine. But, you know, touching his wife's feet and sticking his winky in her japs eye ain't the same fuckin' ballpark. It ain't the same league. Hell, it ain't even the same fuckin' sport." Garrus was amused to note how Zaeed's accent deepened with anger. It was almost worth trying to decipher the nonsensical euphemisms that human language was rife with to see the cold merc lose his cool just a little. Now the man's hands were waving animatedly as he debated, "Foot massages don't mean shit. I'd give my own dear mum a foot massage."

Garrus decided to go for the kill, knowing a bit about human conventions himself, he drew a little closer to Massani and rumbled, "Would you give a guy a foot massage?"

The stunned look that again graced Zaeed's face was well worth this whole absurd argument. In that moment, Garrus knew he'd won and so did Massani, who growled, "Fuck you."

The merc spun on his heels and continued their leisurely stroll down the hall, with Garrus in his wake, who said, "You give them a lot?"

"Fuck you."

"You know, I'm kind of tired. I could use a foot massage myself." Massani shot him a look that screamed bloody murder and the turian finally relented, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Zaeed rounded a corner and said, "There it is."

Garrus nodded agreement and drew alongside his partner, facing the door they'd come to find, "Yep."

"What time is it?"

Garrus blinked to flip his visor's display over to a chronometer and replied, "7:22, morning."

"Ain't quite time yet. Let's hang back." They walked a nearby open stairwell and Garrus wondered if it might have been faster to take the stairs, but seeing as they were early anyway, he guessed it didn't much matter. Massani swung round to him and said, "Look, just cuz I wouldn't give a man a foot massage, doesn't make it right to throw a man off the top of the goddamn Presidium, fuckin' up the way he talks. It just ain't fuckin' right."

Garrus stared down at the human, deciding not to take exception to the finger that almost, but didn't quite poke him in the chest in the man's fervor to make his case. Anyone else would probably have ended up in a pool of their own blood by now, but Zaeed was a comrade, hell, he was almost a friend, though people in their line of work didn't make friends. And the fact that when Garrus had been at his lowest, on that dirt heap affectionately known as Omega, the target of every major merc company that frequented the place, it had been Zaeed who'd pulled him out instead of snuffing him like he'd been paid to do. Showed him a different way to live and honestly, most of the people who'd fell under his scrutiny as a paid assassin were pretty awful people to begin with. He'd buried his conscience as best he could and just...carried on.

Yep, Massani was allowed much when it came to trespassing on Garrus' person. And sometimes, if he watched close, he could almost see something there, under the bitter hard shell that Zaeed presented to the uncaring universe. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking and the reality of it was that boy deep inside Garrus who had believed in justice and mercy wasn't quite as dead as he'd hoped. Garrus could feel the itch creeping along his spine and was suddenly eager to get this business done with so he could go make some 'connections'.

Nevertheless, and because it wasn't in him to just give up, he said to the glowering Massani, "I'm not saying it's right, but you're saying a foot massage doesn't mean anything, and I'm saying it does. I've given dozens of ladies dozens of foot massages, and they all meant _something_. We pretend that they don't, but they do. And that's what's so fucking cool about them. There's a...sensuous thing going on, where, you know, you don't talk about it, but you know it, and she knows it. Fucking Thane knew it. And Conrad should've fucking better known better. I mean, that's his fucking _wife_. Thane isn't a man with a sense of humor about that kind of shit. You know what I'm saying?"

He could see the human visibly calming as his words sought to do exactly that and finally after a long pause, Massani said, "It's an interesting point. C'mon, let's get into character."

They walked back to the doorway and stood before it, waiting. Garrus shifted to resettle his weight comfortably on the balls of his feet, just in case. He turned his head fractionally to say to the silent merc at his side, "What was her name again?"

"Jane."

Again, he echoed Zaeed, "Jane..."

"Why are you so interested in boss man's wife?"

"He's taking a trip off station, asked if I can take care of her while he's gone." Garrus said absently, wishing that door to open.

Massani shot him a look, miming a cocked gun pointed at his own head, saying in a voice slightly horrified, " 'Take care' of her?"

"No, you merc bastard." Garrus shook his head in consternation. Zaeed, and more importantly, Thane knew his rule, 'no women, no kids', though he'd broken the first a couple of times, but he'd consoled himself with the knowledge that they were really, really bad people. "Take her out, show her a good time. Make sure she doesn't get lonely."

"You're going to be taking Jane Krios out on a date?" If anything, Massani's voice conveyed slightly more horror, as well as a touch of humor. Strange, the range of emotion humans could communicate with their flat, hollow voices.

"It is_ not_ a date." Garrus sighed, wishing the conversation had steered clear of this particular factoid. Damn his curiosity. "You know, it's like if you were going to take your buddy's wife to a movie or something. It's just...good company, is all."

Zaeed shook his head, Garrus could just see it in his peripheral vision and clenched his mandibles closer to his face. When the human shot him a doubtful look, he couldn't help but blurt, "It's not a date...It's definitely not a date."

The deadbolt sliding open stopped any further protest he was planning on making and he put on his game face, thinking grim and forboding thoughts to make his face reflect how very screwed these little pyjaks were. A salarian face peeked out at them and they shouldered past to stride purposefully into the room. Garrus' gaze swept the room in perfunctory fashion and he felt a small flash of disappointment. There was no challenge to be had here.

"Hey, kids. How you boys doin'?" Massani grinned with false humor as he speared all three men in the room in turn with a look, letting them no in no uncertain words that they had no chance whatsoever should they try some thing. He took up the central space between the three of them, and Garrus let him have the stage to himself, posting up in the back of the kitchen, keeping an eye on their hands relative to what could be considered weapons. The merc continued, "You know who we are?"

The volus who was obviously their leader sat a little straighter in his chair, tense, nervous. Garrus was surprised he couldn't smell piss, but the suit probably blocked all of that. Zaeed, the grand showman, spoke, "We're associates of your business partner, Thane Krios. You do remember your business partner, don't you?"

Still no words from the gasping rotund alien and Massani was made to speak again, trying to draw these idiots out into the open. Garrus could see frustration building in the merc's eyes, "Now let me take a wild guess here."

He pretended to consider the value of the men before him, resting elbow on wrist while stroking his chin in thought, then pointed at the volus, ignoring the batarian on the couch, "You're Niftu Cal, aren't you?"

"Yes." Breathed the now named Cal, panic showing through in his brittle tone.

"Thought so." Grunted the merc, "You remember your business partner, Thane Krios, don't you, Cal?"

"Yeah, I remember..."

"Good." Zaeed loomed over the smaller man, looking around at the evidence of a meal in progress, "Looks like me and Garrus caught you boys at breakfast. Sorry about that. What are you having?"

"...Uh, pizza-"

"Pizza! Breakfast of champions." Garrus met Zaeed's amused glance and smirked at the merc's snide tone, "What kind of pizza?"

"...bacon and pineapple."

"No, no, no. Where did you get the pizza? Dominoes, Killer Krogan, Citadel's Finest..?"

The volus turned his head to the batarian on the couch, but the cowed creature just shrugged, equally mystified, "Um,...Cobalt Palace Pizza?"

"Cobalt Palace. That's that asari pizza joint. I hear they got some tasty pizza." Massani grumbled, smiling in a way that didn't comfort one iota and Garrus had to admire how deftly the merc kept these fools off balance, "I've never eaten pizza from there. How is it?"

"They're uh,...good."

"Mind if I have a slice?" He pointed at the volus' plate, "This is yours right here, isn't it?"

The volus nodded. The old merc plucked the pizza wedge off the plate and took a prestigiously large bite, chewing it loudly and extravagantly, his eyes never once leaving the pinned volus' face. Zaeed said, "Hm. Now that is some tasty pizza. Garrus, you ever had Cobalt Palace Pizza? Wanna bite?"

Garrus shook his head and searched the cabinets for the thing they'd come here to retrieve. "Naw, that levo cheese gives me gas."

"Well, maybe our friend Cal here will be considerate enough to order dextro friendly next time." He was just playing with them and didn't they just know it. Everyone in the room knew there wasn't going to be a next time.

Massani lifted a finger, saying, "You know what they call asari bacon on Thessia?"

"Um, no."

"Tell him, Garrus."

Garrus snorted then said, "Bacon."

"Just...bacon." Toying with their terror like a cat with its prey. Massani was almost gloating over there. Garrus wished he'd just make it quick and clean, but was resigned to drawn out. Zaeed dropped the slice back on the plate where it splashed in its own puddle of grease and that same oil splattered onto the volus' optics. Garrus was amused to see that the little fucker was too scared to wipe it off even. Zaeed said, "You know why, Cal?"

"Be-because they're asari? And it would be, like...redundant?"

"Check out the brains on this one, eh? You're a smart little shit, aren't you?" Zaeed stood a bit straighter and turned to the batarian, "You, four eyed git, you know why we're here? Why don't you tell Archangel back there where the damn case is?"

The batarian's mouth opened and closed as shock washed over his face. Garrus resisted running his hand over his face at Massani's ill considered remark. It wasn't his fault that the reputation of the vigilante he used to be had never quite eroded completely. He was embarrassed every time it was brought up. The salarian by the door stuttered, "It's-it's over there-"

"I don't remember askin' you a goddamn thing!" Massani leveled a hateful glare on their informant, who cowered beneath it.

The batarian, who finally found his voice, said, "It's in the cupboard."

Garrus opened the ones by his head and heard, "No, the one by your knees."

He bent and rummaged through the lower storage, eventually coming up with a dark case, two by four and about a foot deep. He set it on the counter and flicked the combination to '666'. He hadn't been told what would be in it, only that he'd know if it was what they were sent for. He thumbed it open and was suddenly inundated by blue light. Past that and his mind seized up and he froze. He never froze and yet here he was, awestricken by this...thing he was staring at. _Is that-?_

Zaeed's voice cut through his reverie, "Garrus? We good?"

And he realized that it was in fact the second time Massani had called to him and he swallowed, nodding, "We're good."

"I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name. I got his, he's Archangel right?" The volus was pleading with them with every gesture, asking mercy, please mercy. Garrus closed his eyes to it. Too late, much too late. If they'd valued their lives, they would never have thrown them away like this.

"You don't need to know my name. In fact, very shortly you won't know anything at all. You only need to know this one thing," Massani grinned in ghastly fashion, "I'm the horrible cunt what was sent to take what you stole. With interest."

Cal bravely and foolishly kept talking, "I just want you to know how...sorry we are...that things got so...fucked up with us and Mr. Krios-"

A bang, one loud report as Massani drew his firearm and ended that batarian on the couch. He made not a sound as his life soaked into the cheap fabric of that sofa. And Zaeed growled after a long moment of letting the volus fully comprehend the magnitude of his folly, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I break your concentration? Please, continue."

The volus was wheezing heavily now and seemed utterly shocked at the casual brutality he'd just witnessed. The merc frowned, "Oh, you were finished. Well...allow me to retort."

He leaned closer to Cal and growled, "What does Thane Krios look like?"

Panic and confusion suffused the volus' voice, "What?"

The table that was the only thing separating Zaeed from his quarry was tossed aside and the merc drew himself up to glare down at the smaller man, "The fuck planet are you from?"

"What-?"

" 'What' ain't no planet I've ever heard of. They speak Standard on 'What'?"

Helplessly, "W-What?"

"Standard, motherfucker! Do you speak it?!"

Cal recoiled under the onslaught of words, managing a short strangled, "Y-yes!"

"Then you understand what I'm saying!"

"Yes-"

"Describe what Thane Krios _looks _like!"

"What?..I-"

The volus was suddenly staring down the long barrel of Zaeed's gun as the merc shouted, "Say 'what' again! Say 'what' again! I dare you! I double dare you, motherfucker! Say 'what' one more goddamn time!"

"H-he's green..."

"Go on."

"He's scaley-"

"Does he look like a bitch?"

"W-what-?" The volus shrieked in pain as Massani's gun fired, not into his face as expected but into his knee. Cal clutched the suit desperately as he reeled back.

"Does. He. Look like. A. Bitch?"

"N-no." Groaned Cal.

"Then why'd you try to fuck him like one, Cal?"

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did! Yes. You. Did. Cal." Massani was really hitting his stride now. Only bloodshed made the man cavort like this, put that gleam in his eye. "You tried to fuck him. And Thane Krios doesn't like to be fucked by anybody but Mrs. Krios."

Garrus could tell that the man was planning on prolonging this...torture even more, maybe make it into torture in fact and found that he had little stomach for it and caught Zaeed's eye, shaking his head ever so slightly. The merc harrumphed and stood up straighter, sighting along his weapon to target the volus' bulbous head, "You're lucky I got Garrus here to think about. Or else I might think about having a little fun with you before you snuff it."

The turian breathed a nearly inaudible sigh of relief but tensed again as his partner said in an insolent drawl, "Oh, fuck it."

A rapid series of blasts later as Massani seemed to shoot Cal in almost random places, his screams punctuating each non lethal hit. Garrus swallowed bile and stood, firing his own gun, five shots, one right after another, all into the volus' head. The suited alien was hardly recognizable after they were through and Garrus turned his face from it all, and closed his eyes wearily.


	2. Chapter 2

**Garrus Vakarian **

** and **

**Thane Krios' Wife**

"I think you're going to find-" That sandy voice washed over her from head to toe and she sat passively, watching him watch her from the shadowy recesses of the booth, his large and bottomless dark eyes too knowing. She'd nearly passed this booth on the way in, even though she'd been looking for him specifically. Thane Krios wasn't seen unless he wanted to be seen, "-when all this...unpleasantness is over and done, I think you're going to find, Ms. Lawson, that you'll be very...pleased with the way it turned out. The fact is, Miranda, may I call you Miranda?"

She nodded mutely, still wordless and terrified at how deep in the shit she'd let herself fall. She had no one to blame but herself, but this man, the one in front of her, had the key to getting her out, that was her hope anyway.

"The fact is, Miranda, you have a shelf life. It is finite and it is much shorter than you know. Right now, you're useful. What do you think will become of you when you cease to be so?" She knew, all too well, the kindest end would be an unmarked grave should she not play this out exactly right. She didn't want to think about the worst. She tried to read something past the inscrutable mask of the drell assassin whose space she felt as though she were invading. She knew she wasn't welcome here, not with that symbol on her shoulder, its black, white and yellow stitching turned ghastly in the orange bar light.

Thane, whose countenance was beautifully serene though she knew his lungs were slowly rotting in his chest, steepled his hands before his face and considered her, "It is hard, is it not? Dancing on quicksand. And time is the enemy, weariness is dragging you down where you once danced so well, so nimbly. Where is that arrogant girl now? The one who thought to play both sides against each other?"

Her mouth dried, knowing that soon he would ask the thing of her she most dreaded. Miranda suppressed panic with a vicious inward shove and did her best to reflect nothing of what she was feeling on her face. The drell hummed thoughtfully, "You may have thought once, that you could stay above the chaos, outside of it, that it would overlook you and leave you untouched, virgin. You know better now, don't you?"

She shivered once, uncontrollably. Damn him for using such evocative language, damn him for being so clever and damn _her!_ She forced her thoughts away from the 'her' she meant, that was still a sore spot and one she wasn't willing to dwell on as yet. No answer was required of her...not yet anyway. She had only to listen as he continued, "Yes, I see that you do."

He held an OSD out to her and she reached for it, too eagerly and he pulled it back, "This is valuable, is it not?"

She nodded, shamefully aware of how she still reached for it. It was her lifeline, she was drowning, "Yes."

"You will get the controller back?" She must look like a slack jawed idiot now, her head bobbing up and down so readily. He hummed in approval, a touch of warmth gathering in those gloriously limpid eyes, the smallest of smiles bowing the graceful arch of his mouth. If not for her knowledge that he was a dying man, she'd never be able to look at his perfection.

It was the flaws that were real. She was not real, she was an engineered thing, though now it seemed that the illusion of her own perfection was finally dispelled with this defeat, this bloodless coup of her faculties. She was finally real, solid. How could she not feel it in the presence of all the...death he represented? Like he was an avatar of it.

She hadn't been so terrified of dying since that ship she'd sent off into oblivion had come back with vengeance and hate as its only survivors, the rest had been either lost or might as well have been.

She wondered if she should thank him for that, but decided that groveling was counterproductive. Thane whispered now, but his words cut straight through the small space between them and into her ear, as though he had his lips right there at her lobe, "You will have the final piece once that controller is in my hand. Know that this is not an equal trade and favors may be pressed upon you in the future."

She gathered enough spit to speak and said, "I understand."

Thane held the disc out to her again and her fingers latched onto it, but...he didn't release it to her. She nearly screamed in frustration, but quelled it quickly, looking at him with what she hoped was mild confusion and not the fear in her that he'd changed his mind. His rough voice rolled over her again, making the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, she could almost feel the vibration of it through the disc they mutually held, "When matters come to their inevitable head, who do you belong to?"

Betray everything she's loved and known for her whole life? Pride and conscience warred with ingrained beliefs. Turn everything she's ever done on its ear? Why? _To save the goddamn galaxy, that's why._ Pragmatism rescued her and because she was genius enough to see where her previous path had been leading her, she said the only thing she could say, "Shepard. Only Shepard."

"Good girl." And he let go. He regarded her for a long, tense moment, then said, "That night of darkness when it all comes crashing down for your Illusive Man, you might feel a slight sting. That's just pride, fucking with you. Fuck. Pride. Pride only hurts. It never helps. And in the end, in the aftermath, because there will be an aftermath if you stand with us, you'll say to yourself, 'Thane Krios was right.' "

His use of vulgarity made her shiver once again and she knew what he said was true. She'd seen what could happen with an excess of pride and she worked up the nerve to say, "I have no problem with that."

"You belong to us. Do not forget."

She stood quickly, knowing that she'd been summarily dismissed. Miranda took a few steps then looked back, staring hard into the booth. He must be in there, though it seemed empty now. Uncanny. She rubbed her arms with cold hands and tucked her prize away.

* * *

Garrus scratched his fringe as they waited at the lounge's door. Massani touched the lock again and was rewarded this time by the red glowing circle at its center turning green and sliding open, revealing a tired human face under a black pompadour. A face he knew and one that broke out into a grin as they were both seen and recognized, "Hey, Vakarian, our ambassador of good will. And Zaeed, you rotten old merc, not dead yet I see?"

"I only saw you last Tuesday, you stupid fop." They both slid past the man, who looked out into the alley suspiciously before closing and locking the door behind him.

"Shit, guys, what's up with the clothes?"

"You don't even want to know, Alenko." Garrus shook his head and looked down at what had replaced his slick threads. Loose blue shorts and a white shirt that he was pretty sure was cut for a female figure. At least he still had his piece, tucked into his waistband like he was a third rate crook. His pride had taken the brunt of this hit, so he should probably think himself lucky. Mostly, he just wanted a damn drink. "Where's the boss?"

He lead the way into the darkened bar, wincing at how his sandals clapped with each step.

"Thane's right over there, taking care of some business." Kaiden swung behind the bar, "Give him a minute. He's almost done."

Garrus peered out into the bar, just making out a woman in Thane's booth, her back ramrod straight, "And they say turians have a stick up their ass."

Zaeed laughed and turned to Kaiden, "Gimme some bourbon, will ya?"

"Coming right up. Garrus, still drinking those fruity cocktails?"

"I'm touched you remember. Been what, like a whole year since I seen you. How you been?"

"I'm good, man. Bar's been packed every weekend." Kaiden set three drinks on the bar and settled onto one elbow, smiling at how the turian had to wrap his long tongue around the straw to use it. Garrus rolled his eyes at this old joke and listened with a frown as the man said, "I hear you're going to take Jane out tomorrow."

He could _feel_ Massani grinning next to him and resisted the urge to put his fist through that smug merc's face, "At Thane's request."

"Have you met Jane?"

"No."

Kaiden and Zaeed shared a loaded glance and burst into laughter. Annoyed, Garrus demanded, "What's so fucking funny?"

"Not a goddamn thing." Massani replied, standing with a huge smirk on his face, "I gotta take a leak."

"How many times you piss in a day, Zaeed? Got prostate problems?" He snarked.

"You're too interested in my ass, Vakarian. Eyes forward." Laughed the mercenary as he waved his hand dismissively.

Fuming, Garrus swept up his drink and turned sharply as he sensed someone coming up on his flank. It was her, the woman Thane had been talking to. She walked up to the bar on his left and ordered in a cultured voice, "Whiskey, please. On the rocks."

His bad mood worsened as he saw the Cerberus insignia on her shoulder and he locked a glare onto her eyes, feeling anger curdle in his stomach when she dared to return it with a hostile one of her own.

She sneered, "Looking at something, friend?"

"Hm, friend? I'm sure you're not one, Cerberus."

"What was that?" He didn't care for the strident tone in her voice, or the way she cocked one hip defiantly.

"I think you heard me just fine." They stared at each other, neither willing to cave to the other's will until finally the tension broke when a familiar, rough voice called to him softly.

"Garrus Vakarian." There was a welcome in that voice and he was reminded again why of all the mob bosses he could have worked for, he'd sought out Thane Krios. The turian left the flabbergasted female to her own devices and approached his boss, who embraced him warmly, like a brother, like family. A pang shot through him at the thought of his own family, the flesh and blood family who'd disowned him when he'd turned out to be a disappointment.

"Thane, man, I'm really sorry about what Zaeed-" His apology was forestalled by one slim hand, its middle digits fused into one. A hand he knew for a fact had spilled a sea of blood in his rise to power.

"Do not worry. Shit happens."

The calm and deadly drell didn't curse often and it startled a laugh out of him, even as he sat down with a man who his brain kept telling him was evil, with a heart blacker than sin and yet, had somehow made the turian like him. Strange days indeed.

* * *

Garrus listened off handedly as the heavily tattooed human woman explained to her wide eyed friend the virtues of body piercing, amazed and slightly appalled by the description of what he kept thinking of as self mutilation, but to each their own. He leaned in because his natural curiosity could not be held back any more and he needed clarification on one nagging point that kept bothering him, "Excuse me. I was just curious, but, um, why would you wear a stud in your tongue?"

"Sex thing. Helps fellatio." She answered, nonchalantly and he fought to keep his brow plates from climbing up to the top of his head.

He turned at the mention of his name. A salarian, dressed in white, stood in the doorway that led to his clinic, "Ah, Vakarian. Come in. Please."

Used to the choppiness of this man's syntax, he grinned and made his way past the sterilization field in the doctor's wake. "Mordin, how are things?"

"Better. Never said thank you. Probably be dead by now if not for you. Gangwars on Omega ugly, messy affairs. Glad to have friends with friends in...high places." The salarian paused at the end of a hallway.

"Well, you did patch up my face after the whole Blood Pack, Blue Suns and Eclipse had done a tap dance on it. Couldn't just leave you there to rot." Garrus told himself firmly that what he'd done, he'd done out of self preservation and an eye for the long game. Who knew if he'd ever be that beaten up again? Secretly, he knew though that he'd done it out of pity. The power vacuum had not been kind to anyone left on that station.

"Shame that cure for plague was not made viable before I left. Heard Aria was in the first wave of casualties. Most...tragic."

"Tragic, really? She was kind of a bitch."

"Aria kept station stable. Now it is a veritable meat grinder. Truly a hellhole. Wonder if the situation is salvageable." The doctor hummed in thought and Garrus shifted from one foot to the other.

"So, anyway, got my prescription?" Garrus tried to make it not sound like a plea and knew it failed by the way those huge oval eyes rolled to him with speculation, the power of those huge brains thinking ceaselessly behind them. He wondered just how much they saw and felt a chill.

"Too much to hope that this was merely a social call. Synthesized adrenochrome not meant for steady consumption by even levo brains. Usually causes schizophrenia in high doses. No way to chart damage to pre-frontal lobe." Mordin swept his omnitool over the turian, who stilled instantly. "Elevated stress levels. Evidence of esophogeal tearing consistent with prolonged vocalization. Bad dreams?"

"Ha, you know me." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He smiled disarmingly and said, "Just gimme the stuff, doc."

Solus sighed, "Should not. Adrenochrome free radicals binding with dextro equivalent of adrenaline, causing...dis-associative effect."

"I know. That's why I need it." He was breathing a bit faster now, he could feel the terrors creeping up on him. Those things he kept walled up inside.

Mordin eyed him with the tiniest bit of pity in his eyes, though his words cut Garrus to the quick, "Who will wipe spittle from Archangel's chin when effect becomes permanent? Disgraced ex-C-Sec Officer Vakarian, disowned by family, driven to kill for credits. Who will care?"

Rancor rose in him and he growled around the lump in his throat, "That's a low blow, Mordin."

"Drawing blood often reminds one of self preservation. Wake up, Garrus." The salarian reached for him and he swore he'd scream if that consoling hand ever reached his shoulder.

He dodged it and shouted, "Just gimme the stuff, Solus! You owe me."

"Last plea of the junkie. Next will come threats. Escalated posturing." Mordin dusted his hands off on the front of his clean, white jacket. How did it stay so clean when spirits only knew how many times those slim arms had been elbow deep in someone's viscera, saving lives? Trade secrets, he supposed.

"Don't make it come to that then. Just help me out, Mordin." He reached out and pulled the doctor to him by the front of that pristine frock, "Don't make me beg. I can't...care any more."

The salarian let himself be manhandled and Garrus found himself again under the scrutiny of that huge bundle of grey matter that squatted behind those jewel like eyes. At last, Mordin sighed and gestured to be let go, which Garrus did abruptly and the doctor's voice, quiet with resignation and remorse, drifted to him as the shorter man spun on one heel and walked to a station at a brisk pace, "Last time. Owe you nothing after this. Will refer you to other doctors with less...scruples than I."

Garrus took the little care package he was handed gingerly, with an embarrassing amount of gratitude, though he was sure later on, he was going to regret burning this bridge. He thanked the doctor profusely and said, with a helpless little shrug, "Where can I-?"

Watching him sadly, the salarian extended one long arm, "Bathroom through there. Leave through back door. And Garrus..."

The turian looked back at the doctor, cringing inside as he heard, "Don't come back here."

Garrus fled with his dignity in shambles but at least he had the promise of detachment clutched so carefully in his hand. A half dose, just a half dose before he went to meet his boss' wife, enough to even him out without making him a drooling dullard.

* * *

He whistled through his teeth as he took in the _mansion _Thane Krios' and his wife lived in. This was a really posh part of town, where there were actual plots of land, on which stood single homes. It appeared wasteful to one who'd grown familiar with station life. He imagined a couple hundred people could live in a space this size, in prefab apartment buildings. What...luxury.

The house itself looked more like art than architecture. It reached up into the sky in three spires, sleek, the center one had two protuberances at the top that stabbed at the pixelated clouds above. It curved gently toward him as his eye followed it to its base, to where what he assumed was the actual dwelling area flared out from it. Through the glass walls that covered the side he was looking at, he could see two floors, decorated lavishly. But no sign of the wife.

He walked to the door and waved his omnitool over the lock at its center, ready to input the security code his boss had given him. It opened before he even touched it and he frowned as he entered the house. He called, "Hello?"

He paused to look around, art decorated all the walls. One particular piece grabbed his attention. It was stark, the silhouette of a woman in armor holding a really, really big gun. He knew from its contours that it was a M-98 Widow. The background was violent oranges and scarlets, as though she were standing before the dawn. A dawn with two suns, brilliant and hateful. And from her stance, it seemed more like she was preparing to fight something on that horizon. Her hand was up as though to ward off whatever it was she saw. It was unsettling to look at but still, he could not look away and his eye was drawn to the corner, where in neat brisk strokes, there was a name, '_Krios'._

_The boss can paint?_ Huh, Garrus never would have guessed. He was startled by a voice, loud, slightly tinny as is came out over the intercoms, "Garrus."

He turned and called, "Hello?"

"Make yourself a drink." Her voice was a smooth alto as it filled the living room he was standing in. Jane, he could only assume it was Krios' wife, continued, "I'll be down in two shakes of a lamb's tail. The bar is by the fireplace."

_The hell is a_ _lamb_? He was tempted to run an extranet search but decided not to, in case explicit images popped up and wouldn't that just be great? Have the boss' wife catch him looking at porn. Not the best first impression.

He made himself a simple cocktail and waited and as promised, soon he heard footsteps behind him and turned to see a small human woman with red hair, cut to frame her face in a smooth curtain, stopping at her jawline. Her bangs were cut straight across at the level of her eyebrows as well. Her eyes were a vibrant green, funny, he hadn't known humans could have such bright chromatic coloring, most of them were a sort of brown-ish, he'd always assumed it was natural camouflage. But what was the evolutionary purpose of having bright red hair in a green and brown forest? Hmm.

Suddenly aware he was staring, he dropped his gaze, but not before he saw how she smiled crookedly at him as though to say, _Oh, really?_

He coughed to hide his embarrassment and she said, shouldering a bag that seemed incongruously large on her small frame, "Let's go."

* * *

Garrus parked the rental where she directed and looked up at the flourescent sign of the dive she had wanted to go to, "Chora's Den?"

"Why not?" She smiled at the dismay in his voice.

"It's kind of a shithole, that's why not. C'mon, let's go get a drink somewhere nicer."

"We can get a drink here, Gar-bear." She slid out of the car smoothly, her leather dress riding up just a little on a pale thigh. His head snapped back around as he censured himself for having noticed. He locked the car and followed her as she made her way past the bouncer and to a booth, a booth that he was frankly surprised was empty. It had the best view of the dancers and well, everything. It was, strategically, exactly where he'd want to be given the choice.

They slid into the seats, facing each other over the small circular table and he gestured for a waitress to service them. Jane looked around with interest and said, "It's not so bad. What do you think?"

"I think it's like a strip club without the class."

"What can I get you?" Their waitress asked. Garrus gestured for Jane to order first.

"I'll have...a Tequila Sunrise, please."

Garrus quirked an eyebrow, then told the woman, "Ryncol, please. Top shelf."

Jane pursed her lips, glancing at their server, "Same."

"Be right back with those, Mrs. Krios."

He watched Jane lean back into the tacky red leather seat and pull out a slim cigarette, lighting it and putting it between her red lips, too red to be natural. Probably some kind of cosmetic. He tried to fill the awkward silence, "Spend a lot of time here?"

"I like it here. It's...cozy." She smiled as if she had a secret.

"It's dirty." And loud, and smelled of vomit and rancid perfume. But he didn't want to elucidate the more disgusting 'virtues' of this establishment.

She shot him an indecipherable look, "It's honest. More honest than those manicured gardens on the Presidium."

"Says the woman who lives in a mansion." Garrus made his voice into a teasing lilt.

"Touche."

"What?"

" 'Touche'. It means that would be a fatal blow if we weren't just playing around." She took a deep drag off her smoke and blew out to the side which he appreciated. No one like a face full of acrid smoke. "So...Thane tells me you just got back from Thessia."

"Sure did."

"How long were you there?"

"Almost two years."

"I'm planning a trip there soon." And then he saw something in her eyes, a flash of some hidden emotion just before her expression closed off.

"No kidding? I didn't know that."

She smiled again, a slow lazy grin, "Why would you?"

There was a lull in the conversation as he considered her. He was starting to wonder if she wasn't more than she seemed. His old cop instincts were jangling alarms in the back of his head and he looked closer, but without trying to seem like he was. Past the pampered trophy wife exterior, the polite but engaging smile on the woman's face seemed a...shield more than an actual invitation. Garrus noted shiny patches on her cheeks, some sort of old scarring, barely visible and it was obvious from the slightly unnatural movement of the muscles underneath that there was some sort of cybernetic reconstruction there. He wondered how extensive the damage had been. "I heard you were a soldier. Alliance."

Jane nodded, "Used to be a marine."

"Oh yeah? What ship?"

"You wouldn't have heard of it."

Not to be deterred, he pushed, "See much action?"

Again, that secretive smile, "A bit."

Shut down again, he tried to think of a way to prod her without being too nosy. Their waitress came back and set down their drinks. Garrus sipped his thoughtfully.

Jane's drink, which seemed to be a layered affair, red on the bottom, orange and yellow on the top, put him in mind of that painting he saw in her house, sat on the table untouched. She ran a finger around the lip of it, gaze far away. Finally he broke the silence, "At your house, I saw a painting on the mantle. Didn't know Thane could paint."

She hummed an affirmation, meeting his eyes, "I think it's supposed to be me."

"Really? With an M98 Widow?"

"My favorite gun."

He coughed as a bit of liquor made it down the wrong pipe. When he could finally speak again, he said with surprise coloring his tone, "You were a sniper?"

She leveled a stare at him and he swallowed. She said with amusement, "Infiltration Specialist, yes. A lifetime ago."

_A lifetime ago? How long is that?_ She didn't seem all that old, if he was judging human ages right, she couldn't be that far into her third decade. "Why did you leave the Alliance?"

"I didn't."

His browplates lifted in confusion, "Don't see Thane as the type to like a lady in uniform? So...what happened?"

"I died." Her eyes flickered dangerously in a way that made his heartbeat mysteriously quicken. It was then that he realized that when it came to snipers, there was no such thing as 'was' or 'were'. Snipers saw the world differently, saw all the angles, the exits, the opportunities and did it all with endless patience. Whatever this woman was now, she was still a sniper. The thought made a chill roll up his back.

"Funny, you don't seem very dead to me." He leaned back and smiled, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee, "How did you become 'not' dead?"

She laughed, a throaty chuckle that made his plates tingle in a disconcerting way. He shook the feeling off, _This is Krios' wife, for spirits sake. Get a hold of yourself._ She said, "Magic."

"Riiiight...magic." He hummed in amusement, "But why the Widow? Viper's an all around better gun. Lighter, better payload. Has just as much stopping power with the right mods. And it doesn't try to take your arm off with every shot."

She toyed with the stem of her glass as her eyes glazed over in thought, "I don't need lighter, and I always have enough shots. The Viper can't shoot through buildings as well as the Widow unmodded. I'd rather put something else in that slot."

"Hm. Fair point, but what do you think of-" He let himself get lost in the pleasure of talking to someone about his craft, someone who loved the kill just as much as he, who saw the beauty in a well executed plan. She impressed him with her knowledge of tactics and they were soon laughing at each other's anecdotes. Hers were carefully guarded bits of encounters with things ommitted, and no matter how artfully he pried, she countered, much to his frustration and growing admiration.

Garrus realized she was now close, too close, jammed up right against his side as he mimed sighting down a long barrel, describing in gory detail the rush of mercs across that bridge on Omega. He faltered as he looked down at her, her face inches from his own and was tempted by those red lips, those sparkling eyes, that pale throat...

He jumped away, his self preservation instinct kicking him sharply in the groin as he fumbled his way out of the booth. Jane was watching him with a frown creasing her brows and he hurriedly explalined, "Sorry. Gotta piss."

She laughed and beckoned at a passing server, holding her drink up for a refill, "That's a little more information than I needed, Garrus. Take your time."

He fled to the restroom and stood at a sink, glaring at himself, "Stupid, dense, retarded, fucking foolish turian!"

"The hell were you thinking? That's Thane's _wife_ out there." He splashed some water on his face and tried to cool his heated skin. Images flashed through his mind, her mouth moving as she spoke animatedly about something, her laugh, her sweet scent. NO! That was enough of that. He growled and clenched his hands on the sink's rim and shot himself a warning look, "One more drink and that's it. Don't be rude. Drink your drink, but do it quickly. Take her home and say goodnight."

Garrus took a deep breath and let it out in a gusty sigh, "You see, this is a moral test of oneself, whether or not you can maintain loyalty, because..being loyal is very important. So...you're going to go out there and say, "I have a really early morning planned, let me drive you home. I had a very lovely evening." Take her home, get back to the apartment, jerk off and that's all you're going to do."

Thus resolved, he went back to Jane, who smiled sweetly enough to shake that hard won resolve but somehow he sat with something like nonchalance and started the rehearsed speech, "Uh, listen, Jane-"

"There's our guy." Her eyes suddenly focused on something over his shoulder and he turned, his words drying up as he spotted a krogan sauntering into the bar.

"That's Wreav." He said, utterly confused. "What about him?"

"Well, we're here to take him out."

"What? But-" He looked around wildly, maybe this was all some joke on him and Thane was out there somewhere laughing his ass off. But no, no sign of that drell, only the madwoman across from him with the deadly gleam in her eye, her face settling into a savage and cold smile. She was serious...wait- "No, Wreav is one of ours. Works the lower wards."

"He's made some really unwise deals lately. Time to show him how unwise." Her hands were busy in that huge bag of hers and he realized as the scent of gunoil and eezo reached him that she was packing. He caught a glimpse of something long and black and roughly four inches in diameter and he pushed it down under the table before anyone else could see it. Jane snorted, "C'mon, Vakarian, you didn't really think we came here just for a drink, did you?"

"Would you be surprised if I said yes?"

She poked him in the chest, the third such occurrence that very strange day and firmly said, "I believe Thane, your boss, my husband, told you to take_ me_ out and do whatever_ I_ wanted."

He nodded, swallowing back the 'but but but' that kept wanting to crawl pathetically out of his throat and nearly cringed when she then stated, "Wreav is dead. He just doesn't know it yet. So, c'mon, big boy, let's dance."

The weapon in her lap unfolded with a whine and he had just enough time to think, _the Black Widow?!, _before she started shooting. His own gun, pitifully small, appeared in his hand as though by magic and he unloaded on Wreav's bodyguards while the krogan himself was busy being bombarded by anti-material shells. Garrus felt a shard of envy pierce him every time he heard one of those loud booms behind him as he advanced. He was careful to stay out of her line of sight while he took point.

The battle was fast and chaotic. Between the screaming patrons and dancers and the smoke from grenades that had somehow made their way into the melee, he was dizzied and confused, relying on his instincts to see him through. He couldn't deny the rush that suffused him though, the hard pounding of his heart almost in time with the music. Bloodlust dimmed his vision and he was soon reaching out eagerly for the next target, cracking necks or shooting them point blank.

Two roars behind him made him spin, one pitched low, the other high and the smoke cleared enough where he could see two figures fighting out there. One silhouette was clearly krogan, the other small lithe and his heart dropped as he realized that it had to be Jane. He ran towards them, barreling into Wreav's back just as Jane leapt ridiculously high in a snap kick that nearly took Garrus' head off as the two men dropped to roll on the ground.

Garrus shoved off the bulky bastard and rolled away to his feet, coming up in a ready crouch. Jane growled from his left, "Dammit, Vakarian, I had him."

"Thought you could use some help. My bad."

Wreav roared as he staggered to his feet, his face a mess of cuts and bruises. Jane must have done a hell of a number on him already. The big fucker screamed, "I'm gonna kill you! Then rut with your corpse! Then eat it!"

"Oh good, at least I'll be dead for those last two then." She wryly snarked and Garrus laughed at her nerve.

Wreav obviously lacked a sense of humor, for he charged, fury making him crazed, but stupid. Garrus and Jane both jumped away in opposite directions and torn between trying to grab one or the other, Wreav spun comically, nearly falling over in the process.

Jane thrust her omniblade into his side and Garrus leapt upon his back and wrapped his arm around that thick neck, heaving as he fought to choke the krogan. Wreav tried to shake him off while fending off the annoyingly persistent strikes of the human in front of him. With a roar, he grabbed Garrus and plucked him off his back, tossing the turian into a nearby table. The krogan then went down to one knee, blood loss taking its toll.

Jane drawled, her omniblade out and making little slices in the air, "What's the matter, Wreav? Did the Illusive Man cut off your quad when he made you his bitch?"

Garrus struggled back to his feet, his whole body felt like one big bruise and shook the cobwebs out of his head just in time to see Wreav charge toward Jane once again and she was just standing there, like she was going to meet it head on. He screamed her name and then was shocked into silence as he watched her burst into motion. Jane dropped low, so low and spun to the side, her blade swinging out to score deeply on the back of Wreav's leg. The big bastard crumpled and Garrus realized that he'd been hamstrung.

Then, Jane completed her spin and ended up straddling the krogan's hump and her knife once again dove in and Garrus heard the crack of bone from where he stood, dumbstruck, as Wreav went limp and silent, cut off mid-shriek. The only sound in the ruined bar was Jane's heavy breathing...and his. He saw her touch her own side and took a step toward her, panic fluttering like some mad thing in his head.

With a sigh, Jane slid off the far side of Wreav's corpse. In a split second, he was at her side, pulling her hand away to see whatever it was that had felled her. There was a hole in her abdomen and it was lined with glass. "Jane, shit. Shit, shit, shit."

"Don't forget my gun." She smiled softly at his tirade and winced as he lifted her, "One of the...dancers...lucky stab with a bottle. Didn't even...feel it..when it happened."

"Fuck, Jane. I gotta, it's-" Garrus bounded over the wreckage of Chora's Den and ran out the doors. He put her in the passenger side of the rental and clambered behind the stick, shooting her a horrified look, moaning, "Oh, I'm so fucked. Shit! Don't you die on me, Jane!"

"So...concerned...really, I'm...touched." And with that, he saw her eyes roll back into her head and cursed long and loud. Where to take her? And then he knew. He knew where, though it wasn't going to be pretty.

* * *

"Told you to leave me alone. Not joking. If you show up, will have mechs shoot you."

"Mordin, please, you gotta help me, I'm in some deep shit."

"Do not care." The line went dead and he threw his visor out of the window with a vicious snarl. Fuck it, he set the aircar roughly down on the street right at Mordin's door and got out, fully intending to kick his way in if he had to. He opened Jane's door and gently picked up her comatose form and froze as the sound of loading heatsinks filled the air.

Solus' voice, colder than he'd ever heard it, tolled out like a death knell, "Take her to Huerta Emergency room. Do not push me, Vakarian."

Slowly, he turned and met the salarian glare for glare, saying, "I can't. There'll be trouble...questions. She just killed a man in the wards."

"Not my problem."

Garrus growled, "It will be. This is Thane Krios' wife. You know, your fucking benefactor. If she croaks on me..."

The salarian lowered his weapon, "Point taken. Very well. Bring her in. Will do what I can."

The clinic became a flurry of activity as they fought to save her life. He fluttered about the edges, torn between trying to help and staying out of the way. Finally, Mordin's tattooed assistant sat him down in a chair and he spent the next hour fretting, and stroking the Black Widow in his lap, trying to find some comfort there.

Some time later, well after he'd become a big bundle of frayed nerves, Solus came back into the lobby, his frock still ridiculously white. Garrus leapt to his feet and said, "Well?"

"Was a near thing. Glass shards in arteries, but all clear now. Medi-gel should clear up the rest of the damage in five days."

Garrus couldn't contain the laugh of relief that bubbled out of him, or keep himself from hugging the shorter man, "Oh, spirits, Mordin! You saved my ass. I owe you."

"No owing. Did not do it for you. Did it so thugs do not burn my clinic down." Mordin pulled out of his arms abruptly and straightened his shirt with a tug, his face a slight frown of consternation.

"Of-of course. I didn't mean, uh-"

"Lucky she was so well augmented. 76% organ replacement. Lattice shunting. Heavy bone weave. Excellent work. Wonder where it was acquired." Mused the doctor, fingers drumming on his lips. "Odd device in skull however. At base of brain stem. Not sure what its function is."

"She used to be a soldier. Maybe that has something to do with it." Garrus waved a hand, though now, thinking about it, Jane took on a krogan head on and survived, not an easy feat. There was much more to this than meets the eye. He gestured toward the recovery rooms, "Can I see her?"

"Why? I can make sure she stays safe. Gets home safe." The salarian eyed him with suspicion.

"I'm uh, responsible for her." At the thunderclouds that were gathering on Mordin's face, he held up both his hands to forestall whatever calamity might come his way, "No! No, not for her being injured, though maybe if I had been faster... I just, I'll take her home. And make sure she's okay."

"Follow." The salarian strode quickly down the hall and turned sharply into a dark room on the left. He dialed the lights back up to just bright enough to see and Garrus sighed in relief as he saw her eyes flicker open to latch onto his. He walked to her bedside and looked down at her.

She was pale, worryingly so, her makeup was smeared and in the dimly lit room, he saw that there was a faint orange glow to her pupils. Cybernetic enhancement indeed. She was silent and still though her eyes followed him easily. Garrus reached down and took her hand in his, rumbling a little anxiously, "Jane, c'mon, say something."

She sighed and looked around the room before those glowing eyes found him again and her lips, chapped and still faintly red, parted, "...something..."

He laughed and she smiled. And he thought that maybe it would turn out alright after all.

He drove her home then and put her in the large bed she shared with her husband and made to leave. A slim hand latching onto his wrist stopped him however. He slowly turned back to look at her in puzzlement. Jane wet her lips and said, "At the bar, you were going to kiss me, weren't you?"

He smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, I'm often assaulted by suicidal thoughts."

Jane pulled herself a bit more upright and winced, "It was only supposed to be a bit of fun, Garrus."

"And then you almost died."

"Won't be the first time. And it probably won't be the last." She sighed resignedly. But she didn't appear to be done, so he waited, "I think it's probably better if Thane never hears about this."

"Hey, my lips are sealed." He flicked a mandible at her, debating whether or not to satisfy his curiosity, then, because she wasn't the only reckless one in the room, he blurted, "Mordin, uh, that salarian doctor I took you to, he says you've been heavily augmented, that there's a device..."

"There are stories better left alone for now, I think." She closed her eyes and let go of his wrist. "A lady likes to have a few secrets, Garrus."

He stood and went to the door, turning once there to look at her again, "Is it...okay..if I come check on you tomorrow?"

She opened one eye and looked at him, "Are you going to pry?"

Garrus crossed his arms and said flippantly, "Maybe."

"Good." She yawned and settled back into the soft mattress, "Come back tomorrow then, if you like."

He smiled and set her gun against the door frame before he left and was surprised to feel a great deal of anticipation for what tomorrow could bring.


	3. Chapter 3

(Warning: Description of Non-Con in this chapter. Not graphic, but present. May be triggering for some_.)_

* * *

_'Maths are hard', the girl thought as she huddled over the datapad, twirling the stylus in one plump fist. She sighed heavily, turning as she heard Ms. Pleasant, her caretaker, call her name._

_A tall man, tall as her dead daddy, walked into the study that had for all intents and purposes become her playroom and smiled down at her gently, his eyes, pupils strangely shaped, glowed with an inner light. This looked interesting. More interesting than some silly maths._

_"Miranda, this is Mr. Harper. He knew your father. Is it okay if he visits with you for awhile?"_

_Miranda peered up at the man skeptically, then nodded. Mr. Harper smiled even wider and sat in the chair near where she was working on her lessons. Ms. Pleasant left the room, closing the door with a swipe of her hand. Miranda kicked her feet under the desk and fiddled with the numbers for a while in the silence that followed, shooting sideways glances at her visitor. The man's weird eyes were flitting from bookshelf to bookshelf idly but with interest and it was no wonder, because Miranda knew her daddy had been so very proud of his books, made from real paper, from Earth._

_Finally, she broke the silence, unable to suppress her innate need to know, "You knew my daddy?"_

_"Yes, I did, young lady. We were...colleagues. He spoke about you at great length."_

_Yes, daddy was proud. He'd told her often, though sometimes she had got the feeling that that pride was somehow not for what **she** did or didn't do, but what he'd done himself in regards to her. It was mystifying and difficult for her to even attempt to wrap her brain around._

_Mr. Harper tapped the datapad with one finger, "What are you working on, Miranda?"_

_"Trig-oh-nomuh-tree." The word was awkward on her tongue and she frowned._

_"Really? At your age?" He sounded incredulous, but the smile was warm enough and she realized that he was just playing with her._

_She grinned back, "I'm nearly four!"_

_"Oh, my apologies, young lady. I didn't realize you were so grown up."_

_Miranda stuck her tongue out at him and said, unconsciously rude, "Why are you here?"_

_"Indeed, why are we all here? Why is the sky blue? Why are there so many words for 'fart' in the Krogan language?" He smiled again as she burst into laughter, delighted by the adult's use of a child's dirty word. "I think that the reason I'm here today, in this house...is you."_

_"Me?"_

_"And your father. He saved my life."_

_"From the bad aliens?"_

_Mr. Harper smiled, "And other things. I made him a promise. You know what a promise is?"_

_She shot him a look of childish disdain, of course she knew what a promise was. She knew all about **rules**. Promises were rules you made for yourself._

_The man who would later in life become The Illusive Man put a hand over hers and she was struck by how small her hand was, it was completely engulfed in his and she felt warmth spike through her guts as he gently squeezed. Kindness, she had forgotten it and she looked up in awe as the man said, "I promised your father on the day he died that I'd take care of you. And I will. You'll want for nothing."_

_And she'd believed him. As he looked down at her with those strange glowing eyes, she found that she felt just a little less alone-_

Miranda started awake, sitting up abruptly in the small passenger cabin of the transport that was currently taking her to Cerberus HQ. She looked out the window and saw that they were just about to dock with the structure that she knew housed the abomination a broken ship had limped back through the Omega-4 Relay to bring unto them.

Guilt assailed her as she thought about what she was about to do. She put her head in her hands and sighed. There was no helping it, no other way.

She took a couple deep breaths and steeled her resolve. Just in and out, snatch up what she needed and leave as quickly as possible. Miranda checked her firearm just in case.

**The Elusive Plan**

"Damn, damn damn!" She cursed as she ran from the host of Cerberus troops on her heels, ducking and diving to get away from the little shards of metal that wanted to steal her life. Her omnitool bleeped and she saw with incredulous surprise that it was _him_. Of course it was him. She opened the comm and said dryly, "Hello, daddy."

A wry laugh sounded through the link and he said, "Miranda, I thought I told you not to call me that."

"Sorry, Jack. Or am I not supposed to use your real name either? The Illusive Man? Or some other tawdry alias?"

"What you call me is not important. What you have in your possession is. Bring it back." Stern, he'd been stern for as long as she could remember, but there had been real affection there, or had she just imagined it? Too late now, she was in the business of burning bridges now. And business was good. She listened with half an ear as she slid around a corner and popped her head back out to shoot a few of the soldiers following her, "Bring it back now and all is forgiven."

"No."

"Don't be impudent, Miranda."

She shouted, "I'm not a kid anymore, Jack. And I'm done trying to explain to you why we should have sided with Shepard against the Reapers."

He dared to laugh again, "Your lack of perspective has always been your greatest weakness. You think this is us versus the Reapers when all along it's been just me and Shepard. We're playing a game you see, she and I. Chess. And the galaxy is the board."

The airlock was in sight, she was almost glad, though it was hard to feel it over the screaming her heart was doing, it screamed at her, _TRAITOR!_ "And where do the Reapers fit in on this board of yours?"

"Pawns, but then again, they're all just pawns, even the queen."

"You must be mad if you think you can control the Reapers."

"I can and I will. And then she will know who is the better player." Smugness, that had always been his greatest weakness.

She shook her head, "If you'd seen what came back on that ship with her, if you knew... Regardless, if you're such a great player, why did you do it? Why did you make me put that damn chip in her head? I know you made her leave the Collector Base intact with it. That's cheating."

"That's prudence. I would never had needed to use it if she had seen reason."

"All the casualties, daddy. You manipulated me. Of the crew we sent, only five came back alive. The rest were...eaten, or worse." She ducked inside her vessel, using the edge of the airlock door as cover. She threw a lift out there, in the midst of them, and smiled to see them flail as they were pulled off the ground. "You pushed. You made the immediacy of the threat so overwhelming that she never had time to recruit help or upgrade tech. Were you trying to get them all killed?"

"I won't deny that it would have been...convenient, if she'd managed to get herself killed out there. But then I would have been denied the best game I've ever played."

"Then I'm doing you a favor, taking this toy away from you. Leveling the playing field. No more controller for you to tip the scales unfairly."

"You do this, Miranda, and it severs all ties between us." There was a note of some emotion in his voice and she was reminded that it wasn't as though he didn't have anything to lose either. The stakes of his game were high, too high.

She shivered and punched the door's control panel to shut it, sending one last word through the link before disconnecting, "Good."

* * *

Garrus let himself fall into the human's wake as they made their way down a long tunnel, the door at the end opened with a rush as they approached. He was surprised to see Massani there, looking even grimmer than usual, his arms crossed. Thane stood with his back to the door and he could tell by how those broad shoulders were hunched that something had angered the drell, and if something had ruffled the placid man's demeanor, it had to be something that would have absolutely _infuriated_ a lesser man.

Movement to the side drew his eye and he was startled all over again to see Jane there, wearing armor no less and armed to the teeth. Gone was the socialite, the urban queen in her castle. He recognized murderous intent in her clear green eyes and wondered exactly what was going on here. Kaiden and Thane were having a low conversation over there, just out of earshot.

Garrus took a few steps to the side and said quietly to Jane, "Okay. What's going on?"

All movement ceased in the room and all eyes turned to him. Thane was the only one who remained facing away and his sandy voice filled the room, "Tell him."

Jane snorted and Garrus noted how every ear pricked toward her, how aware they all were of her and felt suddenly that there was something that was about to happen, something that would change _everything._ He wasn't all that sure he wanted to know. Zaeed's hand landed on his shoulder and he shifted his gaze to settle on that scarred face. Massani said, "Prepare yourself, Junior."

* * *

Without a doubt, by now, Thane will have noticed that she wasn't at the rendezvous point. But she knew the risk of handing the controller over outweighed keeping it by a slim margin. It was all about status quo. She knew that there was no reason for him to keep his end of the bargain once that small box was in his hand, and he might just kill her on the spot. This way, she had insurance against that sort of thing. She was sacrificing alot by not following through, but she was sure it wouldn't be the last thing she'd lose before the end.

She slipped into the hotel room on Illium without a sound and snuck up onto the bed where the love of her life slept, his dark skin calling her to taste, which she did, an almost chaste kiss on one strong, well defined shoulder. He rolled sleepily toward her and opened warm brown eyes that grew warmer as he saw her there. She noted the dark circles under his eyes, the shadows of slightly hollow cheeks. She couldn't deny the worry that flooded her as she saw the evidence of her failure written there in his flesh.

She should never have sent him on that damned ship.

He pulled her up into his arms and she settled across his chest with a sigh. He mumbled, "Hey, beautiful."

"Hello, love. Feeling any better?" She kept her tone light, belying the panic that threatened.

"The...voices are quiet, for now. Those meds you made really helped." He smiled bravely at her, though the corners of his mouth trembled slightly. "How'd everything go?"

"You know, betrayal, death, the usual." She smiled as he laughed lightly, "Did you get everything?"

He nodded, "Mm-hmm."

"Good boy."

He chuckled, then frowned, "Are we still heading out into the Terminus?"

"Yep, soon as we can." Miranda watched ghosts flit around in Jacob's eyes and saw that something was troubling him, "What's the matter?"

"It feels like...running away. All these people, and they don't know, they don't have the slightest clue what's about to happen to them. How do we just..abandon them?"

"Let's just get safe and-and get you well, then we'll see." Unable to sit still, she stood and rummaged through her bags, smiling at how neat her clothing was folded. Very military, very precise, how like him. She shot a grin at Jacob, who'd pulled himself partly upright to watch her with a smile of his own. She grew increasingly worried however as her hands continued to fail at landing on that precious thing she'd gambled everything on, "Where's the OSD?"

"It's there."

The slightly uncertain tone in his voice made the knot of fear in her grow and she tried to swallow it back, "Are you sure you packed it?"

"Yeah, nightstand, by the kangaroo. Just like you said."

She gave up on the bag and wheeled around, "Jacob, look at me, are you one hundred percent sure you packed it?"

In the face of her anger and terror, he could only blink and stutter, "I-I, maybe, I-"

With a sweep of her arm and a shout, she flared up and threw everything from the left side of the room to the right, furnishings crashing and splintering, and stood there, breath heaving, eyes rolling. Her gaze found Jacob, whose eyes were wide in his face, which had paled from her display and she straightened abruptly with a shudder, "It's not your fault. You left it on the Citadel. I should have-I should have told you how important that OSD was. What I should have said was that I didn't give a shit about any of this other stuff. I should have said to just bring the disc. It's not your fault."

Jacob was dumbstruck still, his mouth opening and closing. If she weren't so damn scared, she might have found it funny, she said, "You're not a mind reader. Are you?"

He shook his head slowly, "Miri, I-I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She took a deep breath and headed toward the door, pecking at her omnitool to get things arranged, "Just means I'll be back in two days."

"No, no, Miri, Krios and Shepard will be looking for you. The disc isn't that important."

"It has the cure on it. For indoctrination." She speared him with a look, "Your cure."

He winced, usually they tip toed around it, to hear it so bluntly was painful. For both of them. He shook his head, "It's too dangerous. They'll kill you."

"Not while I still have this." She flashed him the controller and smiled, as warmly as she could, considering, "It's my bargaining chip. I'll use it if I have to."

And then she left, her lover still pleading at the door, but she ignored him. For him, she walked on fire. Won a cure for him that might not even work. How could she forgive herself if she didn't at least try?

Sometimes, you had to risk everything to save someone you love. Sometimes practical had to take a back seat. Otherwise, what the hell was the point of living?

* * *

She parked the rental a few blocks away from the apartment she used to share with Jacob. She approached it obliquely, using alleys and culverts to fool anyone who might be there waiting for her. Oddly enough, it was very quiet, not a single soul haunted the streets and she found herself at her own door within minutes.

It opened near soundlessly and she stepped through with extreme caution. No telling what kind of trap Krios might have planned. It seemed all clear and she made her way to the bedroom and found the OSD there, just exactly as she'd left it. She picked it up, thinking that for something that meant so much to her and for thousands others if it worked, it was really light. It should weigh tons for all its import. It reflected gold light into her eyes as she tilted it and she put it away with a relieved sigh.

Miranda made her way out into the living room and was just about to open the door again when an object caught her eye. An object that had her head whipping around in alarm once she realized what it was. Someone had left a damn _cannon_ on her end table. _Hello, panic, my old friend_, she recognized it as a Widow series sniper rifle and balked at what that meant.

Shepard, Shepard had been in her apartment. She heard a toilet flush as she picked up the weapon and turned just in time to see a tall, very not human shape come out of the bathroom. A turian? And not just any turian, but that obnoxious one from the club. With a whine, the rifle unfolded in her hands and she pointed it at her intruder.

The noise startled him, Miranda saw and he froze, eyes flicking from her to the weapon and back again. With a feral grin, she pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. She glanced down in puzzled anger.

A laugh drifted across the room to her and she glared at the alien who stood in the door of her restroom. He flicked a mandible and drawled, "What? Did you leave the safety on?"

With a shout of outrage, she picked him up with her biotics and slammed him backward into her lovely bathroom fixtures and he crumpled against the tile, apparently unconscious, water from the gushing pipes sluicing down into his cowl. She fled, not knowing if there were more hitmen. She just had to get away.

With unseemly haste, she ran back to her rental aircar and jumped in behind the wheel, starting it and calming herself enough so that she could drive steadily without attracting the notice of C-Sec. They were all in Thane's pocket and any undue attention would expose the fact that she was on the station.

She was feeling pretty good about the whole thing by the time she reached a busy and populated intersection, a place where heavy traffic above made it impossible to rise out of the streets, away from pedestrians. Even started singing a little.

A part of her brain, way back in the primitive bit that still raged against lightning and flung poo, pinged her like a message on her omnitool. Pattern recognition, the same thing that saved her ancestors from being eaten by big things with far too many teeth was pressing upon her an immediate threat. It shouted, _Predator!_

And she saw him, Thane Krios, standing before her car, looking equally stunned to be looking at her, the one who dared defy him and his master. She wondered if predators had pattern recognition as well, if that's how they spotted prey and knew it for fact as she watched him drop the box of donuts in his arms and pull out a submachine gun that he then pointed in her direction.

Instinct moved her and she hit the accelerator, felt the front end collide with his body as a very soft impact. She often forgot how small he was, how light. He rolled up over the air car and Miranda spared a glance in her rearview to see him laying inert on the walkway. A glance that cost her dearly, for when her eyes found the path before her again, there was a truck in it. She swerved sharply, terror stealing her control and the last thing she felt was her head hitting the steering column as she ran right into a building.

* * *

Thane was livid, he could feel his body working over time to make deadly toxins in reaction to just how very furious he was. First, the bitch double crossed him, now she hit him with a fucking aircar. She was going to pay. He would make sure to teach her the depths of her folly, tease it out of her flesh in what he hoped was going to be a loooong lesson.

Several concerned bystanders were assisting him to his feet but he shrugged them off and vaguely heard someone saying that the vehicle that hit him had crashed itself nearby. He drew his gun, ignoring the people who screamed and ran, they were not important.

He spotted Miranda's form drunkenly pulling itself out of the wreckage and hissed, his blood boiling with the need to murder her. Unfortunately, his first burst of fire went wide and only served to reveal to his quarry that she'd been spotted once again. Thane shook his head to try to free it from the dizziness that swamped him.

Miranda limped away from him, and he pursued as quickly as he could, since he was nearly as banged up as she. He caught a glimpse of her face and sneered at how much fear was in it. _ Cowardly little bitch, come face me._

She ducked into a shop and he rushed in behind her, rage making him incautious. Something heavy crashed into his skull and he went down. Then fists started raining down on his face, small, feminine fists and he caught glimpses of the maddened female face behind them, her cheeks were a fiery red, her eyes glittered with barely held back insanity. He found himself oddly transfixed by the sight, wondered if she knew just how beautiful she was at that moment. The thought was struck out of his head in the following second by an especially vicious right hook.

Dimly, he heard arguing and then the impact of a smaller body on top of his own. Blackness took away his awareness and he drifted away into a place that was filled with monsters, huge machines that all reached for him.

Some undeterminable time later, he lifted his head, sight restored, senses restored. His face felt like it was damaged, a grinding there told him that he'd broken his cheek...again. Such was life. He sighed and turned his head slightly to see Miranda trussed up much as he was, arms secured behind her back, a ballgag in her mouth. The same thing that was obstructing his own.

One thing that the brief interlude of unconsciousness had granted him was calm, he was firmly back in control again. Not that he could do much about the situation at the moment, whoever had tied these bonds clearly had experience doing so. All he could do was wait.

But not for long. Loud, raucous voices preceded their captors and he recognized from their timbre that they were batarian. And from their smell that they were slavers. Pain and misery clung to them like a stench, the two men as they stood before the bound duo.

Thane peered up at them from lowered brows, hating that he was incapacitated. Miranda muttered what sounded like an oath from behind her gag and opened her eyes. The drell watched her come to all the conclusions he had and they exchanged a look of chagrin for having ended up in this predicament.

One of the slavers pulled up a chair and sat on it backward, looking at them with greed and sick pleasure. "Look what we have here. A last minute addition to our latest shipment."

"Can we sample the merchandise, Zed?" The other said eagerly, wringing his hands.

"Why not?" Zed said, in a tone of nonchalance.

"Which one?" The unnamed batarian touched Thane on the back, right where his spine was exposed by his coat and the drell forced himself into passive acceptance as those hands then wandered over the rest of his body. An opportunity would arise surely and then he could crush these insects. He was surprised to feel anger as that slaver's hands fondled Miranda.

"Hmmm." Zed hummed, looking back and forth between the two. He counted off a rhyme in his native language, from its lilt, Thane could tell that it was some sort of nursery hymn and tensed as a finger ticked from him to Miranda and back with each verse. Finally, that rhyme ended with his finger pointed firmly at Miranda, who shook her head in panic, who tried to speak, plead with them. Shamefully, Thane realized he was glad it wasn't him.

They dragged her into another room and left him alone. Unwise... He started working on his restraints.

Noises began to intrude on his concentration. The bonds were tight, but the chair that held them was cheaply built and he yanked against the material, felt it give a bit and knew a touch of triumph. Triumph that soured as those noises picked up in volume. Cruel laughs, her muffled screams, they were tearing at him. The sound of flesh slapping on flesh. These things were pulling at memories better left to rot. Irikah...

With a pull that worked against the weak chair, he stood and it splintered, falling to pieces around his feet. The plastic restraints around his wrists were the first thing to go, there was enough slack that he could just pull them off now. The ballgag joined them on the floor and Thane took a deep breath and considered.

Miranda was obviously being raped in there, part of him said to leave her there, let her reap what she'd sown. The rest of him recoiled at the idea. No being deserved that, no matter how foul their deeds. Plus he had an inkling of why she'd done the things she'd done and while her logic was flawed, it wasn't in him to let her suffer at the hands of slavers. And she had the controller. It was vital to have it. The campaign they'd waged in the shadows needed that weakness nullified.

Decision made, he opened the door to see just what he'd expected. Both batarians had their backs to him, also unwise. One was nearly within arms' reach while the other was doing the deed itself. Miranda was stretched over a barrel, her skintight pants around her ankles. She wasn't even making much noise any more and Thane knew from personal experience that sometimes it was just better to...disconnect.

No time for pity. The batarian before him didn't even realize he was dead as he was suddenly eye to eye with the drell that they'd tied up outside. Thane let the body drop as he advanced on the other, who made a token effort to resist him. Futile, soon he was also on the ground with his head tilted at an unnatural angle. Thane paused then reached down for the knife the man had tried to draw on him. A deft flick of his wrist and Miranda was free, though her face showed pain and confusion as she straightened herself.

He turned away so she could arrange her clothes and waited. He was surprised himself that he was showing mercy, that his earlier anger at her was pretty much dispelled. He listened in case she tried to flee or attack him foolishly, but when a tug on his hand drew his attention, he turned to see a startling sight.

Miranda was on her knees before him, her face tilted to the ground. In one hand, bloodied, and bruised, she held the controller up to him. It wasn't often he was startled and it took him a moment to recover before he took it from her, tucking it safely away. He said, "The OSD?"

Her face turned up to his in a quick jerking motion and he saw fire there, in her eyes, along with shame, guilt, a thousand other emotions, but it was the fire that he found he was most pleased at seeing. It meant that she would survive this. Like a true penitent, she held up the disc, signaling the end of her resistance. Miranda turned her face with its darkening eyes away from him, exposing her neck, she whispered, "Please, make it quick."

She thought he was going to kill her after all. Maybe he should. This woman had been a thorn in his side since he'd joined Shepard on this fool's crusade. But...no. The dark days ahead were going to need people with Miranda's fire. He pressed the disc back down into her hand and closed her fist upon it. Then he turned on his heel and strode away to the door, pausing when she called to him softly, "Thane, tell Shepard that when she needs me, I'll be there."

He nodded and left, thinking how soon all of this would be not his concern any more. And how he would greet that day with joy. For now, it was enough to have this small victory.

He made a note to have this nest of slavers rooted out. This was his station. He'd find the responsible parties and get..._medieval_ on their asses.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Liara Situation**

"Oh, fuck it."

A rapid series of blasts later as Massani seemed to shoot Cal in almost random places, his screams punctuating each non lethal hit. Garrus swallowed bile and stood, firing his own gun, five shots, one right after another, all into the volus' head. The suited alien was hardly recognizable after they were through and Garrus turned his face from it all, and closed his eyes wearily.

Ignoring the stench of blood and the body altogether, Garrus picked up the case and went to stand with Zaeed. The old merc, still smiling, jerked his head to indicate they should leave. Padok Wiks huddled against the wall near the door, muttering, his eyes glazed with fear. Garrus frowned, such was the fortitude of traitors and spies. He was tempted to put a bullet in Wiks' head himself and almost commented to Zaeed that his friend was itching for a beating when a loud clamor from the back of the apartment drew both their attentions sharply.

"Die, you motherfuckers! Die!" A human male leapt out of the bathroom, pistol leading and Garrus had just enough time to think_, FUCK _before that handcannon started firing, speeding deadly little shards of metal straight at him and Massani.

He waited for pain that never came and soon there was silence but for the sound of a heat sink popping free of its chamber. Garrus and Zaeed glanced down, looking for damage, then at each other. Garrus wondered if the same expression of puzzlement that was on the merc's face was on his own. Probably... but back to the matter at hand.

He lifted his gun and fired, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Massani do the same. The human jerked and spun like a puppet with tangled strings, then flopped to the ground, dead before he even finished moving. There was a long moment of stillness as Garrus re-evaluated what exactly happened. He turned slowly to look at the plasteel wall behind them. It did indeed have bullet holes strewn across its surface. He reached out and touched one, felt its irregular edges under his talon.

He heard Massani talking to Wiks over his shoulder, but it failed to penetrate the fog of incredulity in his head. There was no way that bastard could have missed every shot at that range. The part of his brain that calculated trajectories painted a picture of bullets clearly passing through both their bodies.

"Did you see the size of that gun he had on him? It was bigger than him." He said to no one in particular, "We should be dead, man."

"We was lucky, is all."

"No, no no. That wasn't luck." Fear bubbled up in him. Fear of what, he wasn't quite sure, only that for some reason, fate had seen fit to spare him today when it should have laid him out for the scavengers.

"Fuck was it then, eh? Divine intervention?" Zaeed's voice dripped with sarcasm and he wrenched the gibbering salarian to his feet. "Like the bloody Almighty came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets?"

"Maybe..."

"Bah! You're barking." The merc waved his pistol dismissively, "This shit happens."

"This shit doesn't just happen, Zaeed. You saw him fire that gun, right at us. I was standing right here and you were right there and the fucking bullets didn't hit us. How?"

"I don't know how. I don't question the fact I'm still breathing. It weren't no damn miracle, though."

Garrus wished for some adrenochrome to still his fraying nerves. His hands shook as he holstered his pistol, "We need to go. I need to go."

"Then let's get the fuck out of here." The merc spun and opened the door, gesturing for Wiks to hurry through, growling, "You first, princess. Get a fuckin' move on."

* * *

"Look, I ain't saying it weren't uncanny, okay. But weird shit happens all the time." Massani said, the voice of reason. Only, he wasn't listening. He was thinking about how fucked his life had gotten lately. "I've seen stranger shit than that on a weekly basis. Why get all twisted up about it?"

"We should be dead, Zaeed. End of story. And if you tell me you've actually seen bullets whizzing harmlessly through your body, then I call bullshit. No, I don't know why, but for some reason we were spared." Garrus took a deep breath, "Do you ever feel like...there's some huge thing happening, some bigger plan to it all? Like just out of earshot, people are talking about you?"

"Oh, that doesn't sound like paranoia at all. C'mon, Vakarian, there ain't no grand conspiracies, no shadow organizations what run things from the...shadows." The merc was smiling, but there was a brittleness to it. And Garrus wondered about that, why did it feel like a lie. "And look, even if there were, why would they even notice you and me?"

True, that. He was a failure in every sense of the word. And Massani was just a merc, a merc that was really really good at his job, but still, just a merc. But Garrus still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something..."Shit, I need to quit this job."

"What? Over this little bullshit? What the hell, Garrus?"

"I don't care, I'm telling Thane today." Garrus shuddered, not looking forward to that. "I'm through."

"Can I be there? I wanna see him laugh his cold, reptilian ass off."

"I don't care if he does. I can't do this any more. There are things moving behind the scenes, Zaeed. I know it, and you know it. I gotta get away from all this. Start over. Try to, anyway."

Zaeed turned to their passenger, his gun waving as he illustrated his point, "What about you, Wiks? Feel like Big Brother is controlling you? Or that you're important somehow to some greater design?"

Padok smiled weakly, still rattled from the happenings in the apartment, "I can't even venture an opinion on that. Not without more data."

"No, but honestly, if there were some dastardly plan in the works, some world shaking plan, why would you matter? Are you the Once and Future fucking King-?" A loud blast split the air and Garrus shouted, ducking from all the flying bits of Padok Wiks that splattered against his fringe and cheek.

"The fuck's happening!? Shit, man!" He scraped goo out of his aural canal and looked at the green blood on his hands with horror.

"Aw, shite, I shot Wiks in the face." Zaeed's clothes were covered in a slick green sheen now too

"Why the fuck did you do that?" Garrus demanded, shooting the merc a murderous glance.

"I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident." Massani grumbled, sounding more remorseful than Garrus would have expected.

But that did nothing to quell the anger that filled him, "Look at this fucking mess, man! We're in the fucking middle of the upper wards, during the day cycle!"

"I can't fucking believe it. I ain't never shot someone on accident before."

"Well, fucking believe it, motherfucker! We gotta get this car off the fucking road!" He yelled, not caring any more whether his comrade took offense, "You know, C-Sec tends to notice things like an aircar drenched in blood."

"We'll just take it to a friendly place, that's all."

"Dammit, Massani, I just got back. I don't know where the fuck a friendly place would be!" Garrus concentrated on not swerving over much and tried to avoid high traffic areas as much as he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zaeed punching keys on his omnitool. "What are you doing?"

"I'm calling a...friend, of sorts. He's got a place just inside the Presidium."

"What if he isn't there? We're fucked if we can't get somewhere out of sight."

The comm link clicked open and Zaeed said, "Javik, it's Zaeed, how you doin, man?"

"What do you want, human?" growled a deep voice on the other end.

"Uh, ha, listen, me and my plus one are in some serious shit. We're in an aircar and we need to get it off the road. I need to use your garage for a couple hours." Massani shot him a thumbs up, his grin ghoulish under all that blood.

Garrus shook his head, hoping Zaeed knew what the fuck he was doing.

* * *

"We got to be real...delicate with this Javik situation. He's one snarky remark away from kicking our asses out of the door. Not a patient fellow, he." Sound echoed in the tiled room and Garrus was surprised to hear an actual note of concern in Massani's voice. Whoever this Javik was, Zaeed must respect him to a great degree. "Luckily, he's a good friend of Thane's."

"Why haven't I ever met him then?"

"He got involved while you were on Thessia." The merc dried his hands on a towel, "Apparently, the bloke had been buried in some..stasis pod for a really long time."

"And Thane broke him out."

"Yeah..." Again, that feeling that there was more to find out about this whole thing. "Look, we don't want to push him too much. He's not exactly...nice."

Garrus snorted, "Who's nice?"

"Yeah, I hear that, but this guy makes me look like fucking Father Christmas, so trod gently in this man's house, alright?"

"Got it. Let you handle your friend."

Ten minutes later and they were sipping hot drinks with their kind host, who glared at them with all four eyes. Garrus wondered just what the hell he was. He didn't recognize the man's species. Perhaps he was from one of the many less advanced races that were still too primitive to contact, but that didn't seem like it quite fit what Massani had told him. In fact, the being's attitude seemed to scream how harried he was in just having to deal with this mess. Like he was the superior one here. Strange.

"Mm, goddamn, Javik. This some serious gourmet shit." Zaeed rumbled appreciatively, looking into his mug with a small smile. "Me and Garrus would have been satisfied with some freeze dried drink rations. Right, Garrus?"

Garrus nodded, slightly, watching how Javik's eyes narrowed as they focused sharply on Zaeed, who shifted in discomfort under their regard, "Hmph."

"What?" Massani said.

"I do not need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is. I am the one who purchases it. I know how good it is." Javik sneered, "When Liara goes shopping, she buys shit. I buy the gourmet expensive stuff because it is as close as you primitives can get to making a drink worth drinking. But would you like to know what is really on my mind right now?"

Zaeed floundered, but an answer was clearly not necessary as Javik was quick to continue, "It is not the coffee in my kitchen. It is the dead lizard in my garage."

"Javik, don't worry-"

"Do not presume to tell me when to worry, human. I want to ask you a question." Javik sipped his coffee, then set his mug down on the counter, "When you came pulling in here, did you notice a sign on the front of my house that said, 'Dead lizard storage'?"

Zaeed snorted, "Javik, you know I didn't see no sign-"

"Did you notice a sign on the front of my house that said, 'Dead lizard storage'?" Javik raised his voice, his eyes touched with a cold fury that chilled even Garrus' blood.

Massani looked down, "No, I didn't."

"You know why you did not see that sign? Because it is not there. Because storing dead lizards is not my problem, that is why!"

"Look, Javik, we're not going to store the motherfu-"

"No! Do you not realize that if Liara comes home and sees a dead body in her house, that she will kick me out? No questions, no explanations. She will kick me out. And I do not want to be kicked out." Javik snorted bitterly, "Where would I go, human? Who would have a place for the last prothean?"

He was prothean? Well, that explained the superiority complex. Even Garrus had heard about excavations of massive cities where once dwelt an advanced civilization that had mysteriously disappeared. "You're prothean?"

Those eyes flickered to him, but just as quickly found their way back to Zaeed, the target of their ire, "Yes."

"But, wasn't that fifty thousand years ago? What happened to the rest of your people? Why did you all disappear?"

"The Reapers happened." A chill ran through Garrus at the words, though he wasn't quite sure why. Javik pinned him with a look, "Your ignorance is not my concern. Find an education elsewhere. What I want to know right now is what you will do about the dead lizard in my garage. You have an hour and half until Liara comes home."

"Look, I'll call some people, we'll take care of it. We won't fuck your shit up-"

"You are fucking my shit up right now. My shit will be even more fucked up if Liara comes home. Go. Take care of it now."

* * *

"You've got to appreciate..what an explosive element this Liara situation is." Garrus heard Zaeed say to whoever he was talking to over the private link. What he could hear coming from the merc's earpiece didn't sound like Thane, it was too high pitched. "I mean, she comes home from a hard day's work being all shadowy, and she sees a couple of gangsters in her kitchen doing a bunch of gangster shit, there ain't no telling what she's liable to do."

The merc growled as that someone said something that he clearly didn't like, "I don't want to hear about goddamn 'ifs'. All I want to hear from your ass is, 'I'm on the motherfucker, Zaeed. Go back in there. Calm the bastard down and wait for the cavalry, which should be coming directly."

Garrus watched Massani's face go from worried to elated to startled and pleased. Zaeed said, "You're sending the Wolf?...Shit, yeah, girl, that's all you had to say."

He cut the link and made a pleased hum deep in his throat, looking out the window as he sipped his coffee. Garrus waited for something, anything to reveal exactly what the plan was. Finally, he said, "Well?"

"Oh, she's sending the Wolf."

"Hm, 'she' who?"

"What?"

"Who is the 'she' that is sending the Wolf?"

"She's She-" Zaeed cut his words off with a dismissive wave, "Not important. Someone in the organization. Has Thane's ear."

"Right.."

* * *

The doorbell rang. Garrus and Zaeed were lingering in the foyer as Javik answered it. A quarian female stood there, head tilted slightly to the side, "You're Javik, right? This is your house?"

"It is."

"I'm Tali'Zorah Nar Rayya, the Wolf. I solve problems." She held her hand out to the prothean, who took it and shook it diffidently.

"Good, we have one."

"So I heard. May I come in?"

Javik seemed to be please at the courtesy and stepped aside to let her pass, "Please do."

The quarian stepped before them, "You must be Zaeed. And you're Garrus, yes?"

The pair nodded and they shook hands with her in greeting. She said, "Let's get down to business, gentlemen. If I was informed correctly, the clock is ticking. Isn't that right, Javik?"

"Absolutely."

"The wife comes home soon, yes? I was led to believe if she comes home and finds us here, she wouldn't appreciate it very much?"

"To say the least."

"Alright, that means we have forty minutes to do this. Which, if you do what I say, when I say it, should be plenty." She rolled back onto a hip and crossed her arms in thought, "Now, you have a corpse in a car, minus a head, in the garage. Take me to it."

The car was just as much a mess as they'd left it, not that Garrus had expected it to miraculously clean itself or anything. Tali bent slightly to take it in, sighing. "About the aircar, is there anything I need to know? Does it stall? Does it smoke? Does it make alot of noise?"

"Aside from all the gore, the car is fine." Garrus said, "It's a rental. Picked it up yesterday."

"Hmm. Good enough. Let's get back to the kitchen."

They found themselves back in that kitchen, waiting for Tali to outline the plan, which she did after a short pause, "Okay, first thing, you two."

She pointed at Garrus and Zaeed, "Take the body. Stick it in the trunk. Now, Javik, I see more than a little of a woman's touch here. That would lead me to believe that in the garage, you have cleansers and shit."

Bridling slightly, the prothean nodded, "Under the sink."

She turned back to the bloodied duo, "You boys take the cleansers and clean the inside of the car. I'm talking fast, fast, fast. You need to go in the back seat, scoop up all those bits of brain and skull, get them out of there. Wipe down all the upholstery. It doesn't have to be spotless, the scrubbers will get that later. Just give it a good once over. What you need to take care of, is the really messy parts. The pools of blood that have collected, you have to soak that shit up."

Tali said to the prothean who stood behind her, "Javik, I need you to raid your linen closet. Blankets, quilts, comforters, the darker the better. No white, white is useless. We need to camouflage the interior of the car, so if C-Sec stops us and sticks their big noses in the car, the subterfuge won't last, but at a glance, the car will appear to be normal. Javik, lead the way. Boys, get to work."

" 'Please' would be nice." Garrus blurted as the quarian turned on her heel to follow the prothean.

She turned back, tone incredulous, "Come again?"

"I said a please would be nice."

In a split second, she was in front of him, jabbing her finger into his chest, "Let's get it straight, buster. I'm not here to say please. I'm here to tell you what to do. And if self preservation is an instinct you possess, you better fucking do it and quick. I'm here to help. If my help's not appreciated, lots of luck, gentlemen."

Garrus' hands came up in a placating gesture as Massani said hurriedly, "No, no, no, Miss Tali. It's not like that. Your help is definitely appreciated."

"I didn't mean disrespect. I just..don't like people barking orders at me, is all." Garrus said, by way of explanation, his heart thumping painfully in his chest at how stupid what he'd just done was.

Tali looked up into his face and he could just see her eyes in the fog of the mask, "If I'm curt with you, it's because time is a factor. I think fast, I talk fast and I need you boys to act fast if you want to get out of this. So pretty please, with sugar on top, clean the fucking car. I'll be checking your work, boys. I'm quarian. I know clean."

And then he watched the slim female figure flounce away, and flounce she did. There was no other word to describe it.

* * *

"Man, I will never forgive you for this shit, Zaeed. This is some repugnant shit." Garrus growled as he plucked at bits of Wiks that had half dried onto the upholstery.

"Garrus, have you ever heard the philosophy that once a man admits he is wrong that he is immediately forgiven all wrongdoings? Have you ever heard that?"

"I'm pretty sure the asshole who said that shit never had to pick up itty bitty pieces of skull on account of your dumbass. In fact, what the fuck am I doing in the back? You're the motherfucker who should be on brain detail. We're trading jobs, I'm washing the windows and you're picking up this lizard's skull."

A grueling twenty minutes later and Tali was inspecting their work. She nodded once, "Fine job, gentlemen. You may get out of this yet."

"Now what?" Zaeed asked.

"Phase one complete: clean the car. On to phase two. Clean you two." Which, as it turned out meant stripping and getting hosed off. Garrus winced as the cold water came in contact with the more sensitive bits of his anatomy. He scrubbed as well as he could, glad to have the tacky blood off his skin. Finally, Tali said, "Good enough, dry off and get dressed in these."

"The fuck is this?" Zaeed held up a blue shirt with some sort of cartoon animal on it. Tali and Javik shared a look and a laugh.

She said, "Perfect. Doesn't matter, put it on and let's get a move on. We're taking the car to Parsec Wrecking. Where people I know will be waiting to take the vehicle off our hands and sell it to the Flotilla. They're always looking for more transport and they don't ask questions. Our friends in high places have already bought off the rental company so there's that loose end taken care of. You'll be driving my car and I will be driving the tainted vehicle. Let's go."

When it was all said and done, Garrus and Zaeed stood together watching the Wolf drive away. Garrus felt drained, all the tension and strain had taken its toll, but he found himself not angry at the merc to his left any more, "Hey, I'm hungry. You feel like having breakfast with me?"

"Yeah, sure, s'long as you know this ain't a date."

Garrus harrumphed, "It's not a damn date."

"Sure, Vakarian, whatever you say."


	5. Chapter 5

**Off The Script And Out of Options**

"Tell him."

Jane snorted and Garrus noted how every ear pricked toward her, how aware they all were of her and felt suddenly that there was something that was about to happen, something that would change _everything._ He wasn't all that sure he wanted to know. Zaeed's hand landed on his shoulder and he shifted his gaze to settle on that scarred face. Massani said, "Prepare yourself, Junior."

The woman at his side fiddled with her omnitool for a moment, turning slightly toward a group of monitors at the other end of the room. They flickered to life and an image slowly coalesced, some sort of ship. It looked familiar with its elongated shape and limblike protrusions at the fore. His browplates shot up as he recognized it and Garrus shot Jane an incredulous look, "...Sovereign? The ship that attacked the Citadel a few years ago?"

"No,this isn't Nazara, the one that Saren called Sovereign. This is Harbinger." Jane pecked at a few more keys and the single ship on screen became a dozen, then hundreds, then thousands. More than he could count, they filled the vision of the camera that was recording them, crowding space, _how do you crowd something as empty as space?, _"And it is not alone."

"The fuck are they?" Disquiet filled him, and a raw tingling that was akin to fear.

Thane spoke up then, quietly, "They are called Reapers."

"Reapers? That old myth?" Garrus held his hands up beseechingly, trying to bring some reason back into this conversation, "How can that be possible?"

"In all my years scooting across this great big fish bowl of a galaxy, there's one thing I know for certain." Zaeed growled, dropping his cigarette on the ground and stamping it decisively, "The universe is a weird and fucked up place."

"But, Reapers? Next, you'll be telling me the boogieman is real-"

"I assure you, the Reapers are very real." A new voice intruded and he spun to see an asari enter the room, the glowering figure of Javik behind her.

"Liara." Jane greeted her, with a nod. The asari took a few steps and laid one hand on Jane's arm in a gesture of easy familiarity. Garrus didn't have to see the glare the prothean leveled his way to know that the event of a few days prior was definitely not a topic to discuss. Now or ever.

"All my reports tell me that you're a smart man, Garrus. What if I told you that long range telemetry and surveillance on at least a dozen worlds and outposts at different parts of the rim are all recording similar tableaus? Identical images of advancing forces beyond our comprehension." The asari affixed him a sour look and he could see rage and bitterness there, in her one eye. For the other was covered by an eyepatch, the flesh around it ruined and ripped and raw looking. She must have been beautiful once.

Garrus paused, and really thought about it, "There would be millions of them. trillions, maybe. If I assume they mass near places with relays."

"More than can be counted." Javik said, taking a sip of some beverage out of a thermos. From the smell, it was that coffee the prothean liked.

"But the council-"

"The council had their chance," said Jane, curtly and bitterly, her hand slicing through the air to cut off his words. Again, everyone's attention gravitated to Jane, she was the hub of the wheel. "They had their chance to listen and dismissed the threat instead of preparing for it. It's too late for them."

_Like she was the leader here..._ Garrus watched Thane approach Jane and stand at her side, the angle of his body clearly genuflecting to her. She was the leader in fact. The drell put one hand on her shoulder and she turned into it, smiling at him gratefully, her face reflecting the deep and abiding affection on his. Garrus felt a pang then, along with the shock that arose. Jane affixed Garrus with a stare, as though waiting for him to get over his surprise and say something. Which he did, hesitantly, "How long have you...known? About the invasion?"

"Four years." She said, her lips quirking into a crooked mirthless smile.

Mind boggling, he was stunned into silence again.

"To be fair, you spent two of those years dead." Said Thane with humor. "And you did all you could when you were resurrected."

"Wasn't enough though was it?" Jane retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Soon, it will be-"

"Wait, just...whoa, wait. I'm fucking lost here. First, you say Sovereign was one of these 'Reapers'." He mimed quotation marks in the air and wondered at the short bark of laughter from Zaeed and the odd smiles that alighted on every face in his field of vision. "Then you say you died and were brought back from the dead. And instead of warning all the planetary governments of their impending doom, you've just sat around and...what...did crime?"

There was a long moment of silence while everyone in the room exchanged glances. Jane snorted, "You don't remember me, do you?"

_What..the...fuck? _He ran a hand over his fringe, trying to recall if he'd taken too much of his special medicine that morning and this was all a drug induced hallucination. Maybe he'd OD'ed and even now was sitting in his bathtub at home, blood leaking from all his orifices, making little blue puddles on the tile. But, no, as bizarre as the current conversation was, there was nothing surreal about his surroundings, or the smell of spent eezo and blood that clung to the people around him. It was the stink of war and he was well in it now, and out of his depth.

Garrus decided to take the situation seriously and concentrated on Jane's face, searching hard for something, a landmark, anything. A memory tickled, way back in his brain, a flash of green eyes in a dark helmet. He remembered feeling rage at being so dismissed by the turian who happened to be his boss, turning and seeing a small squad at the foot of the stairs leading up to the council chambers. Three humans, their leader a woman in black armor. And then it clicked and his jaw dropped, "Shepard..."

Zaeed snickered behind him, "Told you he'd have it in five. You owe me twenty creds, Alenko."

Garrus hardly heard this over the roar of information crowding to the forefront of his mind and he stammered, "But you're a..a t-traitor!"

Her jade eyes went flat and deadly and he nearly started back at the danger that was so clear and present in the room with them. Jane took a step toward him and he swallowed reflexively as she whispered, "Damn right I am. I'm a great believer in reciprocity, Garrus."

Kaiden spoke up, "They betrayed us first. They betrayed us all. The Alliance, the council, the governments. All of them stuck a knife in our backs, each in their own turn."

"When Cerberus brought me back, after I'd run, after they opened fire on me and mine when we saved the Citadel from Sovereign-"

"That was Saren-" Began Garrus, only to be interrupted himself by Liara.

"That is the great lie perpetrated by the council. Saren was the pawn of the Reapers, and when they found us at the pinnacle of the station and Sovereign was flaming rubble, their footsoldiers attacked us, chased us all the way out into the Terminus, where we found the Collectors."

"Or rather, they found us." Kaiden growled. "Destroyed the original Normandy, along with Shepard."

"Cerberus brought you back..." Garrus rumbled, stuck on that one point.

"Desperation makes for strange bedfellows." Jane said and she pointed sharply to one side. Kaiden scrambled to grab her the thing she indicated, a case that was eerily familiar. Once it was in her hand, she set it upon a nearby table and flicked it open, bathing them all in blue light. She reached in and took out the object inside, an object that Garrus had glimpsed once upon a time and he felt the same sort of fascination and dread as he gazed upon it now. "Only they put in a few...options of their own."

It was a turian's skull, or it used to be. It throbbed with cybernetics and he could see from the way the eyes swiveled around that it was aware. He shivered as he took in the distinctive sweep of its zygomatic plates, jaw and cheek plates an exaggerated arc that flared behind its cranium.

"Saren, can you hear me?" She crooned to the head.

It hissed somewhere deep in its circuitry and a mechanical voice floated out of it, some sort of vox for no turian could speak without a lower jaw, "I hear you, Shepard."

"That's not my name any more. We talked about this. Remember? I got hitched." She stroked the skull's fringe and said to Garrus, her tone slightly apologetic, "He forgets sometimes. But never the important things. Do you, Saren?"

"No, I do not." Pathetic, the almost proud undertone in the dead man's voice.

"Tell Garrus about how the Reapers used to control you. And what Cerberus did." She held the sick trophy to her chest.

The dead Spectre hissed, "My mind is clear now where Sovereign's will used to fill it with shadows and lies. The Reapers owned my being until the Illusive Man had a woman named Miranda excise from my remains the device that controlled me. Now I am free."

"No, you're not. You're mine, aren't you, Saren?"

"I serve until you give me peace."

"No rest for the wicked, my dear Spectre." She smiled at Garrus' horrified expression, then that regard turned inward and she said softly, "There's more than one sinner in the room that applies to."

"Indeed." Thane said dryly, "Atonement is getting further and further away, it seems."

Garrus felt his stomach drop and he said, though he thought that maybe he knew the answer, "What did this Miranda do with the device then?"

Jane reached one gloved hand up and tapped her temple, "Reprogrammed with the Illusive Man's priorities in mind."

"So you work for Cerberus..."

"No, Garrus, you're going the wrong way now. Think harder." Jane said, with a shake of her head.

"Okaaay...so, you're fighting Cerberus. I can't imagine you'd ever put up with being controlled by a chip in your skull, so that means you must have not known until..."

"Until he used it. I, we-" she gestured around to some of the others. Thane, Zaeed, Liara, Kaiden nodded in turn and she continued, "-took out the Collector base, but not before my entire crew was killed and my ship nearly destroyed for a second time. When I tried to blow the bastard up, suddenly I was walking away. Just walking away, the words coming out of my throat not my own, ordering my men to withdraw. Can you imagine that, Garrus? Can you imagine the _outrage?"_

He shook his head, mouth dry as a desert, "So, why all of...this?"

Garrus gestured around vaguely and managed to take in the whole syndicate they must have raised when they returned, the brutal takeover of all the criminal organizations outside of the Terminus. Jane chuckled, "I was out of options. No backing, no influence. Shoot on sight orders were out on me on every civilized planet. So I turned to someone who knew a way, someone who was even deadlier and sneakier than me."

She nodded to the man at her side, who inclined his head to acknowledge the compliment, "My underworld connections were useful in acquiring the necessary provisions, and intel. Then it was merely a matter of setting the other bosses up for a fall and taking over their organizations."

"You say that so nonchalantly, like you didn't spill gallons of blood to do it." Garrus couldn't help himself, it came out as an accusation and cringed inside as the drell fixed an unreadable stare on him.

Jane laughed, defusing the tension, "Refreshing amount of indignation. Yes, we chose well."

She tossed Saren's head up into the air and caught it with practiced ease, then dropped it back into its box and slammed the lid shut, ignoring the protests of the deceased turian therein. Garrus winced at her rough treatment of what until ten minutes ago, was the galaxy's greatest hero. All that was turned on its ear now, though, he supposed. He grimaced then, "There must have been a way. To get the people in charge to listen to you."

"What makes you think I'd grovel now? Slink on my belly before them and hope that they finally listen to reason? No, I don't think so." Jane unholstered her Black Widow and shoved it into his hands and he goggled at her, not sure what she wanted him to do with it. She turned it in his hands and he saw something there that he hadn't noticed before, names, etched into the stock. _Chakwas, Chambers, Ken, Gabby, Samara, Grunt, Ashley, Joker-_

_"Joker?!_" He turned an astonished look on them, "I know Joker, he's just an Alliance flyboy. Met him-"

"On Illium? Couple years ago?" Jane watched him knowingly, then she said gently, "We've been keeping an eye on you for a long time, Garrus."

" 'Knew' is a better word, Garrus. Joker is dead." Thane rumbled.

Garrus knew a touch of grief then, he'd liked the human. Had almost found a friend there, if his job hadn't forced him offplanet. He stared at the names, "They're all dead, then? These people?"

"Them and thousands more. I'd carve them into my flesh if I could, but even if I wrote really small, I don't think there'd be enough space. No, the council, the Alliance, Cerberus-" Jane hissed, her face contorted in a hate filled grimace for just a moment, before relaxing into a saner expression, "-they are all going to reap what they've sown. When the Reapers attack, we have people poised to take over and do what's necessary to make sure we have a chance to survive the coming holocaust."

"Full on Armageddon." Chuckled Zaeed, his eyes glittering dangerously.

He fistbumped Kaiden, who said, "As far as terms for the endtimes goes, I always liked Ragnarok."

"This is insane. How can you just...wait for the Reapers to attack? And not tell anyone?" Garrus growled, spearing Jane with an accusatory look, "How do you just...stand by and let it happen?"

"Key people know, the ones who need to know, do." Liara said, that same fire in her eye, "As far as the fools in charge go...I murdered my mother for them. That's all they'll ever get from me. All they'll ever take from me ever again."

Garrus leaned against the wall, misery creeping in around the edges. It was too big, he was too small, whatever the truth was, he was ill equipped to deal with all of this. His hands came up to cover his face and he tried to stop shaking as the full weight of the situation hit home. Everything was turned upside down and inside out. He had a sudden deep craving for the drugs, to disconnect from all this. He never asked for all this to happen. But he knew now. How to just ignore what was about to happen? Impossible, it was going to tear him apart.

Hands came up to encircle his wrists and he lowered his trembling hands just enough to see Jane's warmly sparkling green eyes a few inches from his own, "You're saying, 'why me?', aren't you? Well, there are times when I go too far, when we go too far. We need someone to show us when we're being monsters. Do you know how hard it is to find a good man in an organization like ours? A good man willing to work with murderers, traitors and the scum of the galaxy?"

"The events which brought us here, to this point, has left us...skewed." Thane said, ruefully. "And on this, the cusp of this most dire and crucial battle of survival, we can least afford the slightest miscalculation."

"You make me sound like some...innocent. I've killed. I've done horrible things."

"But you've never enjoyed it, have you? Tell me, have you ever executed a man in front of his family? Have you ever executed a family in front of the man who affronted you? Have you ever really tortured anyone? Threaded out their intestines for them to see in all their gory glory before they died?" Jane said these things in a way that left no doubt in his mind that she'd in fact done these things. And the way the others nodded, he knew that they knew these things intrinsically, sorrowfully aware of their own failings, their own monstrousness.

Garrus quailed inwardly, what did they want from him? He was no one, a failure, a junkie. No way could he handle whatever it was they...expected of him. "I can't. I don't know what-"

"Garrus, look at me." And he did and saw something in her eyes, something that made him wonder what she might have been had none of this ever happened to her, to them. She smiled to see him really listening, "You said no once, come with me now and you won't ever have to hide from your conscience again. I need your...clarity, and I will never let you be compromised like we've been."

"You want a tool."

Jane laughed, a sound that was somehow reassuring, "Yes, I won't lie. But I take care of my tools. I will take care of you."

Garrus thought for a long long time, frozen as he was there before their expectant stares, oddly nervous and silent as they waited for his answer. He took a deep breath, decision made and looked at her steadily, "What do we do now?"

A small cheer went up and he smiled even as he cringed and Thane clapped him on the back, saying, "Now we find the bitch who has Jane's controller. She has failed to return after her expedition into the Cerberus base. We must have it. Before the Reapers attack in earnest."

"Right, foreplay's almost done. Time to get ready for the main event." Zaeed said to Javik, who rolled his eyes.

Garrus tried to hand Jane back her rifle, but she shook her head, "No, keep it."

He snorted, "Well, if you'd offered me this before, I probably would have agreed to whatever you wanted regardless."

"No, you wouldn't have." She asserted with a grin.

The turian paused, rubbing the back of his neck, "No...I wouldn't have."

"Relax, Vakarian. It isn't the end of the fucking world...at least, not yet." Massani chortled, before leading him back out into the hallway.

The mercenary was wrong, it had been the end of the world he'd known. No more comfortable illusions, he could only hope that the world on the horizon would be kinder.


	6. Chapter 6

**Two Days Before the World Ended**

The diner was cool and not terribly busy. Zaeed lifted his fork to his mouth and sighed, real eggs, he was ready to forgive this dismal restaurant anything now. The terrible decor, the slight odour wafting from the bathroom, none of that mattered, because this dinky joint had managed to score one hundred percent genuine, grade A eggs, straight from a chicken's twat. A chicken that might even have been on Earth when it laid them.

He sighed in pure bliss as he listened to Garrus talk about some sort of bullshit involving some Blue Suns fuckers what were chasing him across rooftops on Omega. The merc nodded in understanding, making appropriate noises where applicable, but the center of his attention was definitely his plate. He set about cutting his toast into soldiers, sopping up the runny yolk that was all that was left of his eggs greedily, seriously contemplating ordering another set of two. Hell, another set of a dozen. He could count the times he'd had the pleasure of eating real eggs on one hand. Far fewer than he'd had to eat more unsavory things, varren, dog even. And don't get him started on rat.

A man'll eat anything when he's hungry enough. One reason why he always had mustard on his person. In the mornings, he'd check that before he even bothered to holster a firearm. You could eat anything with enough mustard. An army marched on its stomach and he'd definitely been molded by his days of constant battle.

His ruminations were broken by a direct question from Garrus, "I, uh, notice you have a Blue Suns tattoo on your neck. What's up with that?"

"Well, I ought to, shouldn't I? I started the bloody Blue Suns. Me and this bloke, Vido." Zaeed grunted, his mood souring. Of all the stories the turian could have asked him for, he had to go for the one that still left a foul taste in the merc's mouth.

"You started the Blue Suns?"

"Yeah, back when I was young and invincible. I grew up in the gangs on Earth, got to the point where I was getting a certain...reputation for getting the job done. For the right amount of credits, of course."

"Oh, of course." Garrus said with a sardonic edge and Massani had to remind himself that he liked Garrus, that his bosses were eyeballing the turian to join in their little war. Ha, little war. More like the biggest one ever. That made his mood brighten considerably. Nothing like a good skirmish to get the blood moving. He lived for little else nowadays.

He tried not to think of who would have to end Garrus if the turian decided not to participate. Zaeed really didn't want to be the one to do it, but...no matter, he'd done worse. The merc continued, "Well, then I had a revelation, an epiphany, if you will. What if I had a whole group of guys like me, all giving me a piece of their take. I could handle contracts, intel, customer service. I got a great face for handling disgruntled customers."

"Yeah, you're a real people person, Massani." Garrus drawled, drawing a laugh out of the recalcitrant merc. "So what happened?"

"Oh, you know, the standard. Betrayal, death, got shot in the face by my best friend. Funny how he took exception when I did the same to him some years later. Well, live and learn, they say. Or in his case, neither now. He's wormbait." Zaeed found it interesting to note Garrus' slight discomfort at his callous words, "What? You wouldn't do the same?"

"I understand revenge is a powerful and dark motivator."

"So, imagine that you have people at your back that you thought you could trust. Then one day, there's a sharp sting and the floor rises to meet you and you realise you have a knife in your back and the only one who could have put it there, the only one you'd ever have dropped your guard around was your comrade. The one who you've taken bullets for, who's taken bullets for you." Massani leaned forward, locking his gaze with the turian, inwardly happy at the man's audacity to meet his eyes head on. "What if you'd had a team on Omega with you? What if they'd betrayed you to the Blue Suns? Or the Blood Pack? Or Eclipse? What would you have done had the worst thing imaginable come to pass? That moment when you realise the foundation for everything you've ever built was not on the solid bedrock you'd thought, but sand?"

Garrus paused as he thought. Massani could almost hear the gears turning in there. He often admired the other man for his brilliance, his imagination. Finally, the turian said, "I don't know, but I wouldn't let it change me."

_Yes, you would have done._ Sad and glad at the same time, because this was yet another indicator that they'd chosen wisely. The merc found himself smiling and hid it behind his hand. Soon enough the truth would be revealed to Garrus and the turian would have the same sort of doubt assail him. His foundations would be shown to be built on a lie and what would happen then?, the merc wondered. Zaeed could only hope the man would see the heart of it. He had faith that Garrus would use his talent for insight for the benefit of all. Massani cleared his throat and said, "Still turning in your resignation when we get to the office?"

"...We'll see. All I know is, it's been a fucked up day and that only served to underline the fact that I don't know if I can do this any more."

"Well, talk to Thane first. He's an understanding enough chap, though you might want to watch his hands." The merc smiled to show he was joking.

"Ha, if Thane wanted to kill me, I don't think I'd even know about it til after the fact." Garrus stood and stretched, "Headed to the pisser. Be back in a minute."

As Zaeed watched the turian saunter away, he sighed. All this talk of quitting had him thinking about his own retirement, if he lived long enough to actually retire. Maybe there was a beach somewhere with his name on it, where he could just soak up the sun and surf. Or maybe he'd start a family. No, he'd be a terrible father. Hell, maybe he'd just sell everything and walk the earth til the end of his days, like one of those little monk buggers. He wondered if he would look good in saffron. It might be nice to just...exist, no titles, no labels.

Movement out of the corner of his eyes had him tensing. Was that...a human sucking face with a salarian? Before the incongruity of the situation could really sink in past the shock, the pair he was unconsciously watching burst into motion. The human woman leapt upon the table and shouted, "Everyone be cool, this is a robbery!"

The salarian, in tones far more intimidating than they had any right to be, shouted just as loudly, "Any of you fucking pyjaks_ move, _and I'll execute every motherfucking last one of you!"

It never ended, did it? A moment of peace thinking tranquil thoughts and then violence erupts. Nothing for it, he supposed. He sighed again and discreetly drew his gun, pulling it from the loose waistband of his shorts and settling it on his thigh. He watched the pair of robbers fly through the restaurant, idly chewing his toast as he waited for it all to unfold. From their swift and efficient movements, he could see that they were pros, but they also seemed oddly...exaggerated in their threats and posturing, like this was more of a game to them than an honest sort of skullduggery. They lacked the desperation of the common crook, for one.

Soon, the thieves had everyone cordoned into a neat little area of the diner, where they could keep an eye on them all. Then the slim female in the hood jumped up onto the counter and opened the trash bag in her hands with a flair. She shouted, "Alright, people, I'm going to come around and collect your wallets! You don't fucking talk! You just throw them into the bag! Are we clear?"

No one dared answer and she growled again, louder, "I said, are we fucking clear? Good, now, wallets out!"

Zaeed lifted up one arm, with his ancient beaten leather wallet dangling from his fist loosely. He thought about what was in there, not much really, no one carried cash much any more, though there was still a call for loose, untraceable credits. He had a few thousand, not much more than pocket change. In his other hand, below the table, he thumbed the safety off his gun. Not that he really intended to use it, hopefully these brash bastards would just take the cash and go.

He locked gazes with the woman heading toward him, giving his wallet a little wave. Her cheeks dimpled prettily and he had the notion that if he could see the rest of her face, it was probably very lovely, indeed. What he wasn't too fond of, was the pistol in his face. Staring down its barrel, he pondered the meaning of having found himself once again in this position. Maybe there was some sort of greater design to it all, like some deity was poking him to get his attention. The thief said, "In the bag."

Willingly enough, he did as she said. His heart dropped a bit as her gaze slid sideways to the case they'd so recently reclaimed and he silently told her to bugger off with his eyes, to no avail. The woman said, her lips curling into an intrigued smile, "What's in the case?"

"My boss' dirty laundry."

"Your boss makes you do his laundry?" Her eyes swept to take in his tattoos, his scars. And his odd clothing. He wondered what she made of it all.

"When she wants it cleaned."

"Sounds like a shit job."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing."

His lovely robber paused then said, "Open it."

Zaeed rumbled a negative, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"What's going on?" The salarian behind her said, his weapon trained on the cowed civilians at his feet.

"Looks like we got a vigilante in our midst." Zaeed kept a smile from his face at her words, thinking how Garrus would react to that. Speaking of the turian, surely the bloody bathrooms weren't soundproof.

"Shoot him in the face." Her partner said, tone deadly with an unstable edge to it.

The merc did his best not to bridle at the casual statement and calmly stated, "I hate to shatter your ego, but this ain't the first time I've been threatened with that. One guy actually carried through with it, as you can see."

"Unless you want to make that two, you'll open the case." The woman said and he admired her pluck, even as she unwittingly plummeted toward disaster, "I'm going to count to three and if you don't open that case by the time I'm done, I'm going to unload the entire sink into your face. We clear?"

He said nothing and kept his posture non-threatening as she started counting, "One...two...th-"

"Alright, Pandora. You win." He plopped the case onto the table and pressed it open, letting its blue light bathe the room. He knew what was in the case, knew that seeing it would cause the moment of hesitation on her part that he needed. As expected, the thief froze, a sort of horrified fascination spreading across her face.

"Hey, what is it?" Her partner said, nervously, after a long moment of silence, "What is it?"

"Is...Is that what I think it is?"

"Mm-hmm."

Her gun hand started shaking as she became even more transfixed by the reaperized skull of Saren Arterius, which was surely looking back up at her with its cold dead eyes, "It's terrifying."

In a swift darting motion, Zaeed grabbed her gun hand and yanked her right into the barrel of his own pistol, lodging it under her chin. He kept her between him and the other gunman, just in case the salarian got trigger happy. That salarian leapt upon the counter himself and shouted, in a voice filled with panic, "You let her go! You let her go now! Let go of her or I'm going to kill you!-"

Staring right into the woman's eyes, Zaeed growled, "You tell that skinny fuck to be cool."

"Lethergo, you fuckingfuck! I'makillyou, youbas-" The man's words were tumbling out in one long breath, getting jumbled into one big pile of sound and he was reminded why he didn't like salarians. They talk too damn fast.

"You say, 'be cool' to that asshat." He ordered the woman on the end of his gun.

She flailed one hand, "Be cool, honey bunny."

The salarian stilled his tirade, thin chest heaving, eyes rolling in his fear for her. Zaeed almost felt sorry for them, but they'd brought it on themselves really. He decided to take pity on the man and said to the female, "Now, tell him it's gonna be alright."

"It's going to be alright, honey bunny."

"Promise him!"

"I promise!" Her hands waved frantically for her partner to stand down.

"Alright, now tell me his name."

"Jondum."

"Jondum, we're not going to do anything stupid, are we?" Massani spared a glance for the salarian, looking so very unstable and liable to get everyone in this diner killed.

"Don't you hurt her!"

"Nobody's gonna hurt anybody. We're just going to have a conversation. Now, girl, when _I _count to three, you're going to let go of your gun, you're going to put your hands flat on the table and you're going to sit your pert ass down." He waited for her to nod fractionally and then continued, "Now, one...two...three."

As promised, she relinquished her gun and sat across from him. The merc kept his gun trained on her, in case she decided to try to be clever.

"Okay, now you let her go!" Her partner fairly screamed. His worry was touching...really. Zaeed wondered if other people thought thoughts sarcastically or if it was just him, but shook that away for now.

"Jondum, I thought you were going to be cool. Now, when you yell at me, it makes me nervous. And when I get nervous, I get scared. And when motherfuckers get scared, that's when motherfuckers get accidentally shot." Normally, he would enjoy the look of fear that flitted over her face, but right now, well, Garrus was right, it had been a particularly fucked up day and he was eager to have it done with.

"Just so you know, you hurt her, you die." Jondum said.

"Well, that's the rub, isn't it? But I don't want that, and you don't want that. And your lovely lady friend here definitely doesn't want that. So let's see what can be done about it." Zaeed laid his other hand on the case, thankfully closed now. The blasted thing gave him the willies too, not that the woman in front of him needed to know that. He continued, "Now here's the situation. Normally, both of you would be lying in puddles of your own blood by now, maybe the two colors would swirl and mix in a lovely symbolic portrayal of the fleeting beauty of life that would move poets to compose maudlin sonnets to sicken the rest of us for ages to come. But you happened to pull this shit when I'm in a transitional period and I don't want to kill you. I want to help you."

She was staring at him puzzlement in the set of her shoulders. Zaeed sighed and locked the case under his hand, "But I can't give you this case. It doesn't belong to me. Besides, I been through too much shit lately for this case to just give it over to some thrill seeking cunts what think robbing a diner and terrorizing a bunch of regular folk constitutes a good time. Don't think I can't tell you both are pros. Why you're not out stealing the Mona Lisa, I don't know. And frankly, I don't care."

"Stealing the Mona Lisa isn't as good a time as you'd think. Too easy." The girl dared to say and he let her, though he made it clear in no uncertain terms that further interruptions would not be tolerated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw blue, "Garrus! Be cool!"

There was a tense moment as the salarian and the turian faced off, each pointing their respective weapons at each other. Zaeed had a moment of anxiety that it would indeed come to bloodshed but Garrus listened and relaxed a tiny amount, while keeping the salarian definitely in his sights.

"Jondum, it's cool, man. Keep the gun on me. Point the gun at me!" His words shocked the salarian into obeying, "We're still just talking. We're cool and we're just talking. It's almost over. I'm proud of you. And your girlfriend is proud of you too. Tell him you're proud of him."

The thief said, "I'm proud of you, honey bunny."

"Now, I want you to go in that bag, and find my wallet." The merc pointed at the bag in the woman's lap. "My mum gave me that wallet. It's sentimental."

"Which one is it?"

"It's the one with 'Pickle' embossed on it."

The thief rummaged around in the bag, coming up with his beaten brown memory of yesteryear forthwith. She made to hand it to him and he said, "Reach in there and take the money out. Take the cred chits too. I always keep a fiver behind my conceal carry license for a rainy day. And I'll be buggered if it ain't raining shit on you guys right now."

She did as he said, holding the paltry sum of money loosely in her hand. He grumbled, "Think of it as me buying you breakfast. Take the rest of those wallets and things and put them up on the register. You and I both know you don't need the money, you're here for the thrill of it. Now, I understand all about the thrill. How you have to keep going farther and further to feel that slick burn between your legs. How everyday you want to make it like it's your last. Your last score, your last high, the last time plowing some pretty bint in her juicebox. Makes it all the sweeter when you pretend the world is ending tomorrow.

"But let me tell you about the end of the world. A lot of people hear that and think, 'well, that's a bit dramatic, isn't it. End of the world, all life just poof, gone.' But outside the actual, very real possibility of the galaxy coming to a crashing halt in the near future, there's all the little worlds to consider. The ones we build in our minds. We make these glorious realities in our heads, grand and beautiful, but about as strong and safe as a soap bubble. And someone out there is carrying a pin just for you. And that's me, I am a spiky one. And you've brushed awful close. So consider this the end of your world, the one of false security, of too easy living where stealing from random blokes in diners carries no consequence. You saw what was in the case?"

She nodded, her eyes still haunted from that small glimpse into madness.

"But did you really see? Very soon now, that will be the future. Go, prepare as best you can, or resign to it, I don't care." He watched them scramble away, their pace unseemly in its haste. The female thief shot him a look over her shoulder, and he read terror there. He sighed again, he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

Zaeed caught Garrus looking at him with something approaching awe, and a strange sort of happiness, "Oh, stop looking at me like that. I'm not gonna shoot anyone in the middle of a goddamn diner."

Garrus made a noise in his throat that meant he knew the merc was fully capable of doing just that, with impunity. And that he was pleased that he hadn't.

The human ran a hand over greying hair and chuffed, "I think I'm getting soft in my old age."

The turian at his side laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, much to his chagrin. Manhandled by upstarts, he really was getting old. Zaeed was wondering if Garrus had heard him, the whole 'end of the world' speech hadn't just been for the two thieves benefit. The merc winced, not used to caring this much, or at all. But that was Garrus' unique gift, he made others care, even evil old sods like Zaeed Massani.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Obligatory Epilogue**

He pulled the last piece of rubble free and looked down at her, tried to find the real her behind the ruin of flesh at his feet. Her wounds were innumerable and he didn't need his visor to tell him that all life had flown. Slowly, as if he didn't wish to wake her, Garrus lifted Jane's corpse from the tomb it had made of the crashed Citadel. He held her close and shut his eyes at the waves of pounding grief that flooded him, feeling guilt that there was no small measure of relief mixed into it as well. He'd been afraid of her as much as he'd been afraid for her. Her and her damn vengeance.

"Thane was right." said a voice to his left and he half turned to take in the woman who'd accompanied him here. Miranda Lawson, no longer flying Cerberus colors. She was standing tall, hair flying in the breeze as she took in the vast ruined landscape of her people's homeworld. The city was in flames but that didn't take away from the hope that shone in her eyes. The guillotine had not fallen, the end had not ended them.

But he only had eyes for the dead one in his arms. Garrus let himself remember that last few months of fighting, hectic, the terror that gripped him as he was forced to witness atrocity after atrocity. He'd done his best to be the counterweight, and sometimes succeeded. The genophage was cured, even though Jane had pushed to fool the krogans into only believing it so. To keep the Dalatrass happy. The quarians were dead, as well as all the geth. He'd failed them in being unable to move Shepard to pity that once.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he swiveled his head to look down at his salarian friend, new lines on his face indicating how harrowing their ordeal was. Mordin said, kindly, "We won. Reapers dead."

The thing with the genophage and the quarians were only a couple in uncountable instances of such things that had conspired to rob him of his sanity. Jane had been a force of nature, cruel and indomitable. Even more so after Thane had been taken from her. She'd run at every obstacle like a mad thing, using every trick, deception and outright betrayal to accomplish this.

She'd gone so far that a few had fled her side, even Zaeed. Garrus wondered for a moment how that old bastard was doing out in the Terminus, maybe he'd found a place of his own. He hoped so, a beach, a pretty wife maybe, some bright ending. Spirits knew they needed a brighter future.

Garrus couldn't have left, as much as he'd have liked to. He saw how much she needed him, how could he run now.

But they had this. Victory, at last. And at so high a cost in lives and at times, nearly his soul. Victory over her old enemies, they'd found her nemesis a few feet away already, his once glowing blue eyes dully staring at the sky. Garrus looked down into her barely recognizable face and whispered, "Yes, the monsters are all dead."

She'd kept her promise as best she could, gave him everything he needed to help her, except time. Time he could have used to change her nature, fix her broken soul. Now she was dead. At least, perhaps she would find solace there, the two would be re-united on the other side of the veil. Him and her, Thane and Jane, and they would be free of the things they'd done in this life.

A shuffling from his side reminded him that Miranda had lost someone close to her as well. You could see it in her eyes, the slight sloping of her shoulders. So many were gone and yet she was still here. The woman said, "Now what?"

Garrus walked to a shuttle that had a gurney for just this purpose strapped in the rear and set Jane's corpse onto it. He looked at his comrades, for that was what they'd become, people to cherish and trust. He said, "Now we're free. The past and the future have no hold on us. All oaths have been fulfilled."

"..Free..." Miranda smiled and laughed, "I don't even know what that is any more."

"Perhaps time to find out." Mordin said, hopping in after them.

_Yes, there's time to find out, _Garrus echoed in his mind and laughed clear and loud as the vehicle lifted off. He sat back and pulled the gift she'd given him so long ago to him, its black lacquer shining dully, deadly and quiet, just as she'd been. With talon, he started the laborous etching on its stock, adding a few names, running his fingers over them, just remembering. All the dead ones. Making a new oath to never forget the cost of pride...and the reward of sacrifice.


End file.
